


i'll always hold on 'cause you make me strong

by littlemissmeggie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Body Worship, Canon Compliant, Comfort Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Insecurity, M/M, Niall Doms from the Bottom, Powerbottom!Niall, Subspace, Top!Harry, bottom!Niall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 21:25:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9625928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemissmeggie/pseuds/littlemissmeggie
Summary: “Niall, we’ve never been ‘just friends.’”“For someone who’s so certain we’ve never been ‘just friends,’ you sure spent a lot of time trying to convince me we should keep it casual,” Niall told Harry sadly. “A year of ‘casual’ before you told me you were in love with me.”“Niall, I can’t… Do you think I- you think I cheated?” Harry asked, tears on his eyelashes.“No. I don’t think you cheated,” Niall said, shaking his head. “But when I saw you with her, when I saw those pictures, I knew you’d realised I was right,” Niall sounded dejected, resigned to what he thought was the truth.“Right about what, Ni?”“I don’t belong with you.” He sighed. “I don’t fit.”or…Niall and Harry are just friends-with-benefits until they’re much more. But Harry’s plans for the hiatus, coupled with his friendship with Kendall Jenner, cause Niall to wonder if he really belongs in Harry’s life. His insecurities and doubts lead to a broken-hearted Harry more than once but Niall knows a way to fix both of them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [Sub Harry Fic Fest](http://subharryficfest.tumblr.com) for organizing this! And a million thanks to my lovely friend and beta [kirrylovesnarry](http://kirrylovesnarry.tumblr.com)!

**Book 1**

Harry and Niall had been spending most of their nights together lately, the last few weeks, cuddled up in one of their hotel rooms while the other boys went out after the evening’s show. They watched movies and drank beer, chatting and laughing and joking and teasing.

Niall cuddled into Harry’s side, head nestled into Harry’s neck, and sighed contentedly when the brunette wrapped an arm around his waist.

Tonight was different though. Niall knew it as soon as Harry slipped his fingers under the hem of Niall’s shirt and began to caress gentle patterns onto the soft skin of Niall’s tummy with his fingertips.

Neither boy said anything, silent as they pretended to watch the movie playing on the flat screen television in front of them. Niall’s cheeks flushed a pretty rosey pink and his mind was drowning in the sensations of Harry’s fingers tracing against his smooth flesh.

“Niall?” came Harry’s voice, quiet and deep, drawing Niall’s attention back. “Niall.”

Niall lifted his head from Harry’s shoulder and felt his breath catch in his throat, face inches from Harry’s. Blushing just as pink as Niall, Harry leant forward and brushed his lips against the blonde’s in a tentative kiss.

“I’m- I,” began Harry, pulling back. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to apologize for kissing Niall, for sliding his hand under Niall’s shirt and against his bare tummy, or if he wanted to explain why he’d done it. “Oh,” he said, looking at Niall, speechless as he took in how beautiful Niall looked with his blue eyes closed and cheeks tinged pink and lips slightly parted.

Before Harry had a chance to string more than two words together, Niall ducked his head forward and pressed his lips to Harry’s, more firmly than Harry had done moments before. Harry’s eyes fluttered shut and he returned the kiss, allowing Niall to control the pace, still shy and a little timid but _determined_ , and Harry wondered briefly if Niall had thought about kissing him before.

Slowly, Harry cupped Niall’s neck gently before moving his hand up to tangle his fingers in the hair at the back of the boy’s head. Niall mewled, the tiniest of whimpers escaping his lips, and Harry shuddered because he hadn’t expected _that_.

The kiss grew deeper and Harry, one arm still around Niall’s waist, dragged the boy onto his lap, his skinny little legs straddling Harry’s hips and his cute little bum on Harry’s thighs. The movie played forgotten in the background as Harry licked along the seam of Niall’s lips and Niall gave another small moan.

*******

Niall woke up the next morning alone in his hotel bed. He distinctly remembered falling asleep next to Harry, their fingers laced together under the blankets and Harry’s steady breathing lulling him to sleep.

“Fuck,” said Niall sadly when he saw that Harry’s clothes were gone from their pile on the floor beside the bed. Harry had left at some point during the night. Niall wondered if Harry had ever really even fallen asleep or if he’d just pretended and waited for Niall to fall asleep so he could sneak out.

Niall flopped back down on the bed and covered his face with his hands. He kind of wanted to cry. The last two months of this tour were going to be awkward now. _Everything_ was going to be awkward now.

And he’d most likely lost his best friend because Harry was going to avoid him now.

Niall lay wallowing in his own self-pity until he heard the door to his room open. Removing his hands from his face, he turned his head and saw Harry walking toward the bed, two cups of coffee in his hands.

“Morning, Ni,” said Harry with a small smile, looking his usual Harry self. “Brought you some coffee.”

“G’morning, Haz,” said Niall, pushing himself to sit up and taking the cup Harry offered him. “Thanks.”

Harry sat down on the bed, leaning against the headboard next to Niall. He turned to Niall and smirked. “You’re a good kisser.”

“Oh,” said Niall dumbly. “I mean, thanks?” Harry chuckled. “So are you.”

Harry laughed again. “Thanks.” He studied Niall’s face, dusty pink under his freckles, with a fond little smile. “You’re cute when you blush, do you know that?”

Niall blushed even brighter and looked at his legs, still under the duvet. “Is this”—he gestured between their bodies a few times—“going to be awkward now? Us?”

“Why would it be?” asked Harry sincerely, ducking his head down to try to meet Niall’s eyes. “Let’s just keep it casual, yeah,” he suggested with a small smile.

“Yeah, right,” Niall said, nodding his head, unsure if his heart was breaking from what felt remarkably like rejection or stitching back together with relief from the knowledge that Harry seemed so certain nothing would be awkward. “Casual. Just mates who kiss sometimes.”

Harry laughed. “Yeah. Just mates who kiss sometimes.”

*******

Harry still seemed content to cuddle up with Niall after shows, kissing and holding hands, and Niall didn’t want to ruin what he had. So Niall didn’t say anything, didn’t tell Harry that he wanted to be boyfriends and that he was _maybe_ a little bit in love with Harry; he pushed away the sadness and hurt that came with Harry’s suggestion that they _keep it casual_ , realising that it didn’t really feel too much like rejection when Harry curled up next to him in bed and gave him sweet butterfly kisses and told Niall how cute he was when he blushed and how beautiful he was while he slept.

Niall’s concern that the last two months of Take Me Home would be awkward was unwarranted, it seemed, because nothing seemed to have changed at all; he knew it was horribly cliche, but, if Niall was being completely honest, nothing had ever seemed so _right_ in his life.

*******

Sometimes Harry and Niall stayed at the hotel after a show rather than going out with the lads, laughing and talking and watching movies; Niall playing his guitar while Harry watched, transfixed, as though he’d never seen anything so wonderful; kissing and cuddling and falling asleep tangled together on the bed.

And sometimes Harry and Niall went out with Louis and Liam and Zayn, getting just the right side of pissed before tripping their way back to one of their rooms and falling together into bed, legs twined together under the duvet and faces inches apart on the pillows.

But, though they slept together nearly every night, they’d not done anything more than a lot of proper snogging and a fair bit of frottage.

In fact, it wasn’t until one of the last nights of Take Me Home that things went a little further.

Harry and Niall went out drinking with the lads after the concert, downing shots and pints until they stumbled down the hotel corridor at three o’clock in the morning, Harry’s arms wrapped around Niall’s neck and body pressed to the smaller lad’s back.

“Niall,” whispered Harry against Niall’s ear, his breath tickling the blonde as he fumbled with his keycard. “Ni-all.”

“What, Haz?” asked Niall, finally succeeding at unlocking the door to his hotel room and pushing it open.

“I wanna,” said Harry, voice raspy as he followed Niall into the room, still wrapped around the blonde’s body, “I wanna give you a blowie.”

“You… What?” asked Niall, stopping abruptly and turning to look at Harry.

“ _Please_ , Niall,” whined Harry, sounding needy and wanting, “ _please_ let me give you a blowie!”

Niall took Harry in, his cheeks flushed and his eyes dark with lust and his curly hair mussed. “Close the door,” said Niall quietly. When Harry made no move to close the door, Niall said again, voice a bit deeper and more firm, “Close the door, Haz.”

Harry’s breath caught in his throat and his eyes widened slightly. “O-o-okay, Niall,” he stuttered, turning to close the door behind him.

“You want,” began Niall, voice low, “you want to give me a blowjob?”

Harry nodded vehemently, curls flying loose from his headscarf. “Yes, _please_ ,” said Harry, almost begging. “ _Please_ , Niall.”

Niall stared at Harry for a few moments. He wanted this. _Fuck_ , he wanted this so badly, Harry’s eager near-begging only making him want it even more.

“Okay,” said Niall, exhaling deeply. “Yes.”

Harry looked at Niall, dumbstruck, eyes wide and a flush on his cheeks. Niall wondered if he’d misread the situation, if maybe Harry had been joking.

“Or—”

“Tell me,” said Harry, almost bashful, cheeks even more pink.

“Tell you what?” asked Niall, confused. Maybe that last pint had been a mistake.

“Tell me to…” said Harry, eyes asking Niall for something that he couldn’t quite identify, “ _you know_.”

And _oh_.

“Suck my cock, Harry.”

Harry whimpered and walked toward Niall, stopping just in front of the blonde. He looked at Niall, eyes still asking for that _something_ that Niall now realised was _commands_.

“Come here,” said Niall, not unkindly. “Come on, pet.” He reached a hand out to Harry and smiled when the taller lad took it in his own. “Kiss me,” he said quietly, fingers cupping Harry’s jaw and tilting Harry’s face down to his own.

Harry closed his eyes and sighed so sweetly. He pressed his lips to Niall’s and Niall kissed back, gentle and slow and calming.

After a few minutes, Niall pulled back from Harry’s lips. “Bed, yeah?” he whispered, not really a question as much as a command.

“Yes,” agreed Harry, nodding against Niall’s head. “Yeah.”

They tripped toward the bed, drunk now not just from the alcohol but from the lust spreading through their veins. Niall sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off his shoes, suddenly aware of his erection. Harry was just as aware, it seemed, because he looked at the bulge between Niall’s legs.

Niall studied his face for a few seconds. “Well?” Harry looked up to Niall’s face, eyebrows raised a little and the blush back on his cheeks. “Suck my cock.”

Niall watched as Harry dropped to his knees in front of Niall’s spread legs, placing his hands on Niall’s knees before sliding them up to Niall’s crotch. With a glance up at Niall’s face, Harry moved one hand to Niall’s bulge, palming his hard cock through his jeans. Niall moaned, head tilted back with his eyes closed and lips parted slightly, as Harry rubbed Niall’s erection.

“Come on, Harry,” said Niall finally. “Stop teasing.”

Harry whimpered and moved to undo Niall’s jeans, popping the button and pulling down the zipper. Niall helped Harry, pushing his trousers down over his hips while Harry pulled on the fabric where it bunched at Niall’s thighs.

Jeans finally off, Niall pulled his shirt over his head while Harry slipped his fingers into the waist of Niall’s pants and tugged. Harry’s eyes widened as he dragged the pants down Niall’s skinny legs, Niall’s cock poking out of the elastic waistband, hard against his tummy. With a final tug, Harry pulled Niall’s pants down to his feet.

Harry moaned quietly, hand reaching out to wrap around Niall’s cock lightly. Almost tentatively, he began to jerk Niall off, hand moving up toward the bubblegum pink head and down to the base, repeating the movements, still gentle and almost experimental.

“Oh, _God_ , Haz,” groaned Niall, his breathing rapid and soft moans slipping past his lips. That seemed to be all of the encouragement Harry needed, more confident now as he sped up his movements, his fingers tighter around Niall’s cock.

Niall was lost in the sensations that Harry’s hand and the rings on his long fingers were providing, overwhelmed with how _amazing_ it all felt. Through the haze, though, he remembered why this had all begun, remembered Harry whispering hotly in his ear that he wanted to give Niall a blowjob.

“Harry,” grunted Niall. “Harry!” Harry looked up at Niall, dazed. “Suck my cock.”

“Mmmm,” moaned Harry. “Yes. Okay, Niall.” His tongue poked out to lick his bottom lip and, without wasting any more time, Harry leant forward and licked the tip of Niall’s dick. He pulled back a few inches before licking again, this time from the base of Niall’s length to the tip, wrapping his lips around the head and swirling his tongue around a few times.

“ _Fuck_ ,” groaned Niall, eyes closing and head tipping back. Harry pressed his lips down Niall’s hard cock, taking nearly all of him into his mouth, tongue tracing the veins on Niall’s length as he moved down and pulled back up. Niall’s hands moved to Harry’s hair at the back of his head, pulling it gently as the boy sucked him off.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” said Niall and Harry whimpered. “ _So good_ , baby.”

* * *

 

They weren’t boyfriends, Niall knew that, knew they weren’t exclusive. They were _casual_. _Just mates who kiss sometimes_.

But that didn’t make it sting any less when Niall texted Harry to see if he wanted to hang out a few nights before 1D Day—the incident at the airport earlier in the day had shaken him quite badly, if he was being honest, and he wanted a bit of a cuddle—and got a message back from Harry telling Niall he was going to dinner with Kendall Jenner.

With shaking hands and the feeling of his heart fissuring in his chest, Niall texted back a simple _Have fun_ before curling into his bed with far more pillows than was really necessary and old episodes of _Chopped_ running on the television.

Because Niall didn’t know how to tell Harry that he maybe didn’t want to _just_ be mates who kiss sometimes, that he was kind of in love with Harry. He honestly couldn’t even imagine how that conversation would go, so he kept his thoughts to himself.

*******

“So about one in three of all the questions I’ve had were very simple,” said Piers to Harry. “Are you dating Kendall Jenner, yes or no?” he asked and Niall watched the boy carefully, not really _wanting_ to hear Harry’s answer.

“Um, I mean,” said Harry and Niall was almost pleased to see that Harry seemed a bit uncomfortable with the question, “I mean, we went out for dinner but… no, I guess.”

* * *

 

“So what’s up with you and Kendall?” Niall asked Harry, trying for nonchalance and hoping it sounded casual.

Niall thought it seemed like a reasonable question, especially _right now_ , as Harry cuddled into Niall’s warmth, long limbs curled against the blonde’s side under a massive blanket and face tucked into Niall’s neck as he placed soft kisses to the smooth skin. He claimed he was still freezing from spending the day at Clevedon Pier, the sharp wind making the day bitter and cold while they filmed their video for “You & I.”

“Nothing,” said Harry, seemingly unbothered by the question as he placed more kisses along Niall’s jaw. “We’re just friends.”

“Like how we’re ‘just friends?’” asked Niall, voice clipped and short.

“No. _Not_ like us,” said Harry, pulling back to look at Niall. “You’re not _just my friend_. You’re my _best friend_ and I _love_ you.”

“Oh,” said Niall on an exhale, eyes focused on the serious, very sincere look on Harry’s face.

There it was. _I love you_. Niall knew it wasn’t the same as _I’m in love with you_ but it was warm and comforting, like a mug of hot apple cider on a crisp autumn day. It was something that Harry felt for Niall but not for Kendall—he was Harry’s best friend and Harry _loved_ him—and it was an affection, an attachment, that was, in some way or another, reserved only for him.

“Yeah,” said Harry, eyes softening to a beautiful jade and voice dropping, sticky and sweet. “Now let me kiss you please?”

*******

March soon turned into April and with it came the beginning of a new tour. It didn’t take long for Harry and Niall to fall back into their pattern of evening and early morning cuddles, borderline-inappropriate stage antics, innuendo-laden interviews, and drunken nights filled with kisses and blowjobs and slurred declarations that skirted around the edges of _I love you_ but never quite crossed the blurry imaginary line.

The line became even more blurred one night in May.

Harry and Niall were getting ready to cuddle and pretend to watch telly while actually grinding their hips together, panting heavy and damp against each other’s necks, until Harry sighed prettily against Niall’s throat and Niall moaned out Harry’s name, eyes closed as they came down from their orgasms.

Harry rolled over and pressed his body along Niall’s side, his dick firm against the boy’s hip. With his lips brushing the shell of Niall’s ear, Harry moaned and then whispered almost pleadingly, “Niall, _Niall_ , please fuck me.”

“Harry,” breathed Niall, shuddering slightly with his own arousal, “what?”

“ _Please_ , Niall,” whined Harry. “Please fuck me. I want you _so much_.” He licked Niall’s earlobe before pulling it between his teeth and nibbling lightly.

God, he wanted Harry _so much_ too—he had for ages—but he wanted it to be amazing for Harry and Niall wasn’t sure. He’d never done that before, never fucked a guy.

“Niall,” whined Harry again. He sat up and moved to straddle Niall’s smaller body, his knees pressed into the mattress on either side of Niall’s slim hips and his shins and feet stretched along the sides of Niall’s thighs. “ _Please_ do something.”

Nervously, Niall slid his hands up Harry’s thighs and placed them on Harry’s hips, fingers gripping his flesh. He tipped his hips up, pressing his hardening cock to Harry’s arse. He supposed he could do this; it wasn’t _too_ far off from his recurring fantasy, really, except that he was always on the receiving end. How often had Niall fantasised about Harry kissing him from his lips to his tummy, thought about Harry’s long fingers working him open slowly, imagined Harry sliding into him inch by inch until he was filled and consumed with _Harry Harry Harry_?

“ _Niall_!” pleaded Harry again and Niall became aware of Harry’s movements against his cock.

Suddenly, Niall had an idea. He knew, after months of blowjobs and handjobs and getting off with Harry, that Harry liked _commands_ , liked to be told what to do while they were being intimate.

“Harry, I’m not going to fuck you,” Niall told the brunette. Harry sat back, bum on the heels of his feet, and looked at Niall with a mixture of confusion and hurt, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “You’re going to fuck me, pet,” said Niall, kind but firm, assuaging Harry’s obvious abashedness and uncertainty.

“What?” asked Harry, brows scrunching a bit as he looked down at Niall.

“Take off your clothes, Harry,” said Niall gently and Harry blinked before moving off of Niall and standing up from the bed. He quickly pulled off his shirt and pants and looked at Niall again.

“Kiss me,” whispered Niall. Harry knelt on the bed beside Niall and leant down, closing his eyes and pressing his lips to Niall’s in a sweet peck. Niall threaded his fingers in the hair at the crown of Harry’s head and tugged, pulling Harry back. Harry opened his eyes and met Niall’s. “I want you to undress me now, pet,” Niall told Harry softly. “ _Please_.”

Harry nodded and reached down to the hem of Niall’s shirt, dragging the fabric up Niall’s tummy and over his head. Shirt discarded on the floor, Harry slipped his fingers into the waistband of Niall’s pants. He pulled them down the blonde’s thin legs and added them to the pile of clothes on the floor.

“Kiss me”—Harry seemed to be awaiting instruction—“kiss me everywhere, yeah?”

“Everywhere?” asked Harry timidly.

“Everywhere,” said Niall. “Anywhere you want to, love.”

Harry bent forward and kissed Niall’s lips, his face, his cheeks, his brows and forehead, his jaw. He moved his lips down farther and kissed the underside of Niall’s jaw, leaving a trail of kisses down the length of Niall’s throat. Niall whimpered quietly, overwhelmed with the sensations, when Harry kissed along his right collarbone before returning to Niall’s mouth for a few open-mouthed kisses.

With a new-found confidence, Harry moved down Niall’s body again, this time pressing wet kisses to Niall’s left collarbone and down to his chest.

Niall sighed, eyes fluttering shut. “Harry, you can touch me,” he said. “I want you to touch me, pet.”

Harry’s hands moved from where they rested on the mattress on either side of Niall’s waist, palms sliding up the outsides of Niall’s thighs and stopping at his slim hips, fingers spreading to caress the flesh of the boy’s hips and waist as he dragged his lips down the center of Niall’s chest.

Harry’s mouth reached Niall’s tummy and he peppered the smooth skin with kisses, soft and sweet. Niall whimpered again, Harry’s lips inches away from his hard cock.

“Harry, baby,” said Niall and Harry looked up at Niall where he lay on the pillows, “there’s lube, um, there’s some lube in my bag. Find it, yeah?”

Harry scurried off the bed and rummaged through Niall’s suitcase, finally finding a tube of lube in one of the hidden pouches. He returned to the bed, sitting next to Niall with his bum on his heels, and looked at Niall, ready for the blonde’s next command.

“Harry, love, you’re gonna open me up. Get me all ready for you,” said Niall.

“Okay,” breathed Harry. Then, quietly, timidly, he asked, “How?”

Niall blinked, watching a rosy flush spread across Harry’s cheeks and down his neck. He wasn’t quite sure what Harry meant by the question. “Use some lube, yeah, and start with one finger,” said Niall. “And then, you know, work it into me. Gotta stretch me out a bit.”

Harry did as instructed, squeezing a few drops of lube onto his fingers and smoothing it over his fingers, coating them with the liquid. Niall laid back on the bed and spread his knees, opening his legs for Harry. With a quick glance toward Niall’s face, Harry moved his shaky hands toward Niall’s inner thighs and gripped them, high up by Niall’s crotch, fingers kneading the muscle gently.

“Harry, love,” said Niall kindly, “don’t be nervous.”

“Okay.” Harry suddenly looked so _shy_. “I just- I just want to be _good_.”

“Oh, _love_ ,” said Niall quietly, fondness plain on his face. “You’re always good. So good.”

Harry smiled sweetly and slid his right hand, covered with lube, down between Niall’s spread legs and between the boy’s pale arse cheeks. He dragged his thumb over Niall’s tight hole, down and up and down again, pressure barely there and then firm and then light again. Finally, after what felt like hours of pleasurable torture, Harry placed his index finger to Niall and traced around the boy’s rim a few times before easing the tip in. He pressed in just past the first knuckle and pulled back out almost completely before slipping it back in again, this time past the first knuckle and to the second. He continued to press in and pull out for a few minutes, his other hand kneading Niall’s inner right thigh while he watched his finger move in and out of Niall’s arse, before Niall’s voice came from where his head rested on a pillow.

“Love, I”—Niall groaned—“I want you to add a second finger.”

Harry nodded and dragged his index finger out of Niall’s tight hole. He pressed his middle finger to the index and worked them in together, moving at a pace that was driving Niall mad.

“Baby,” Niall managed to choke out after a few minutes, “use another- use three fingers. _Please_.”

Wanting to be good for Niall, Harry quickly added a third finger, wiggling them a bit once he’d fitted them inside Niall’s hole.

“Scissor them, love, yeah. Gotta, _oh_ ”—Niall moaned as Harry followed his instruction—“gotta stretch me open.” His eyelashes fluttered as Harry worked him open, separating his fingers and bringing them together again and separating them.

“Harry,” said Niall and Harry looked toward the blonde, “I want you to take your fingers out now. You’re gonna fuck me with your thick cock.” Niall was surprised by his confidence, by the strength and force of his commands. He’d never been _this_ forceful before, even with Harry; there was a definite difference, thought Niall, between telling Harry to kiss him and suck his cock and telling Harry to finger him open and _fuck him_.

“Niall?” asked Harry quietly, pulling his fingers out slowly, and the blonde shifted his attention to the lanky boy.

“Yeah, Haz?”

“Do you- should I use a condom?” asked Harry, sounding uncertain and a little nervous.

Niall blinked up at Harry. “I’m, um, I’m clean,” he told the brunette. “So—”

“So am I,” said Harry.

“Then I don’t think we need one,” said Niall, smiling at Harry sweetly.

“Yeah,” agreed Harry. “Good.”

“Harry,” asked Niall gently, “is this okay?”

“Yes,” said Harry, nodding quickly.

“Everything?”

“Yes, Niall,” said Harry again. “I want to make you happy,” he added bashfully.

Niall beamed. “I want you to be happy too, though, love,” Niall told him. “Tell me- please tell me if you’re… uncomfortable or anything.”

“Okay, Niall.”

Niall studied Harry for a moment, still reeling from Harry’s shy _I want to make you happy_. God, he loved this boy.

“Alright, love,” he said. “Lube yourself up for me. And let me see. I- I want to watch.”

Harry huffed out a shaky breath. “Yes, Niall.”

He took his cock in one hand and reached for the tube of lube with the other, popping the top with his thumb and squeezing a few drops right onto his length. He snapped the lid shut and dropped the tube. With the hand wrapped around his cock, Harry spread the lube over his length, sliding his flingers down toward the base and back up to the head. Niall watched the movements, eyes blown wide and breathing uneven. Watching Harry jerk himself off had to be one of the hottest things he’d ever seen.

“Niall,” said Harry, “I’m, um, I’m ready.”

“Yeah,” sighed Niall. “Come here, baby.”

Harry shuffled toward Niall on his knees, stopping between the blonde’s spread legs.

“Kisses,” said Niall, tipping his head back into the pillows and puckering his lips. He lifted his legs from the bed and wrapped them around Harry’s waist, the heels of his feet pressed into Harry’s bum. Harry giggled and leant down, hands cupping Niall’s face as he placed his lips to Niall’s and gave him a few easy pecks.

“Harry, love,” whispered Niall against the younger lad’s lips. “Harry, _please_ , I need you inside me now.”

Harry pulled back, hands sliding down Niall’s cheeks and chest and tummy and hips, palms settling on the outside of Niall’s thighs and fingers gripping firmly behind his knees. Harry pulled, dragging Niall closer to his body. Moving one hand from the boy’s leg to his own cock, Harry lined the head of his dick up with Niall’s hole and pressed in slowly, stopping after the first inch to let Niall adjust before rocking forward more to bury himself completely in Niall’s heat.

“Oh, _God_ , Harry,” moaned Niall. “ _God_ , you feel so, _oh_ , you feel so good!”

“Ni!” said Harry breathlessly. He pulled almost completely out and pressed back in, drawing a groan out of Niall. “Niall! You’re amazing. You’re so _tight_ , oh my God!” He repeated the movement, in and out and in and out, breathing roughly and listening to Niall’s moans and whimpers.

“So beautiful, love,” Niall managed to choke out, watching the muscles in Harry’s arms and chest and stomach strain as he pumped into Niall over and over. “You’re so beautiful.”

Harry’s eyelashes fluttered at the praise, grip tightening on Niall’s thighs as he sped up the pace, fucking into Niall a bit rougher.

“ _Fuck_!” Niall cursed under his breath, eyes squeezing closed. “You’re so good, baby. Such a good boy for me.”

Before Niall could worry, could wonder if Harry would be offended at being called a good boy, Harry’s head dropped back and his body shuddered. “Niall, _fuck_ , I’m gonna cum,” he whined.

“Touch me, pet,” said Niall firmly. “I’m so close. Touch me.”

Harry reached out and took Niall’s cock in his hand, stroking him quickly. With just a few short strokes, Niall exhaled harshly. “I’m- I’m c-cumming.” His orgasm hit him, light splashing behind his eyelids as he came, spilling hot and sticky over Harry’s hand and his tummy.

“Niall, _love_ ,” sighed Harry as he came, stilling his hips as he filled Niall with his own release. “Niall, Niall, Niall,” he breathed.

Harry and Niall fell back on the bed, laying together as their breathing and heartbeats settled back to a normal rhythm.

“So perfect,” whispered Niall, content. Harry sighed and cuddled into Niall’s side, pressing sweet kisses and his wide smile to Niall’s freckled neck. “So perfect.”

*******

Niall woke up the next morning, Harry’s body warm beside him and the scent of sex heavy in the air.

 _Casual_ , thought Niall wryly, rubbing a hand over his eyes, as Harry slept on, breathing easily.

* * *

 

As the Where We Are tour continued, Harry and Niall stopped even pretending to use two rooms at hotels, automatically settling into Niall’s assigned room and leaving Harry’s completely untouched.

They began to sleep together most nights; Harry loved the feel of Niall’s small body underneath his own, loved the safety of Niall and his gentle commands and whispered praises as Harry lost himself in Niall’s comfort and warmth and love.

Harry hadn’t mentioned the status of their relationship since it had started though, since he had first suggested to Niall that they keep it casual. Niall avoided any mention of it as well; although it hurt to be in love with someone who didn’t seem to want a serious relationship, who just wanted the convenience of casual friends-with-benefits, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing what he had.

It seemed that the only people oblivious to how _not_ casual Harry and Niall’s situation _actually_ was were Harry and Niall.

In fact, it seemed that most people not only knew about Harry and Niall’s relationship but actually assumed they were boyfriends, something Niall wasn’t aware of until he and Harry were out drinking with the lads one night in August.

Niall sat at their corner booth, watching Harry across the pub. The brunette stood at the bar, a pretty girl next to him on a stool, laughing and smiling and flirting. Niall chewed at his lip, trying not to let his emotions spread across his face.

Just as Niall was beginning to consider finding a way back to the hotel, Zayn slid into the booth beside him. He nodded toward Harry and said, “What’s your boy doing chatting up that girl?”

Niall blinked. “My boy?” he asked, a little confused. “Harry’s not- Harry isn’t _my boy_.”

“What?” asked Zayn, his turn to sound confused. “Harry’s your boyfriend. Isn’t he?”

“No,” said Niall, shaking his head. “No. It’s, um, it’s just... _casual_.”

“Niall, I don’t think there’s _anything_ casual about you two,” said Zayn gently, seeing the crushed heartache on Niall’s face. “And if Harry’s been telling you that, he’s a liar.”

Niall looked at Harry again, the look of heartache still painting his features. “Why would- why would Harry lie about that?” he wondered.

“I’m gonna state the obvious and say, like, Harry feels the same way you do but doesn’t think you feel the same way.” Niall stared at his friend, a little too drunk to figure out what he meant. “You’re both oblivious prats,” Zayn told him bluntly, “and you should talk to him.”

Many pints and a few shots later, Zayn decided it was time to bring Niall back to the hotel. As he led the blonde to the door of the room he was sharing with Harry, Niall shook his head frantically. “No. No, Zayn. _Please_ ,” he begged. “Can I kip- can I kip in your room tonight?”

“Okay,” said Zayn. “Sure.”

*******

Zayn woke up before Niall the next morning. He found Niall’s jeans discarded on the floor by the bed and searched the pockets for the key card to the blonde’s room. He pulled it from the back pocket and made his way to the room, swiping the card and unlocking the door.

Zayn entered the room and saw Harry asleep, curled up on the edge of the bed. The sound of the door closing seemed to startle Harry awake, though Zayn suspected he’d not been fully asleep, anxiously waiting for Niall to come back to their room.

“Niall, love,” said Harry, voice slow and sticky with sleep. He turned and pushed himself up onto his elbows, looking toward the door. “Oh. Zayn? What are you doing here?” he asked groggily. “Where’s Niall?”

“He’s asleep back in mine,” answered Zayn.

“Oh,” said Harry, blinking away the sleep. “What are you doing here?” he asked again, brows scrunched in mild confusion.

“I came to talk to you about Niall,” said Zayn, sitting at the foot of the bed.

“Is he okay?”

“Yes,” said Zayn. “Well, no. No, not really.”

Harry was suddenly alert, sitting up completely and looking at Zayn. “What happened?” he asked, a little panicked. “What’s wrong?”

“No, he’s _okay_ ,” said Zayn, trying to calm Harry a bit. “Just… _casual_ , Haz? Really?”

“What?” asked Harry.

“ _Casual_. You two aren’t _casual_.”

“I’m- What? Casual?” Harry spluttered. He paused for a few seconds. “How do you know that?”

“He told me last night,” explained Zayn. “You two aren’t casual, Harry. Everyone thinks you’re boyfriends, you know that?”

Harry stared at Zayn. “Really?”

“Yeah, Harry. Really,” said Zayn. “And you’re breaking his heart.”

Harry looked at Zayn, face blank. “How am I breaking his heart?”

“You’ve got him convinced that you don’t want a serious relationship,” explained Zayn.

“I don’t,” said Harry.

Zayn’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and he blinked rapidly, shocked by Harry’s bluntness. “Harry, you and Niall practically live together,” said Zayn, trying to keep his exasperation from showing too strongly. “As close as you can given our circumstances anyway.”

“Well, we like to room together,” said Harry, shrugging a shoulder. “It’s nice to share a bed with someone.”

“I’m gonna guess you’re not just _sleeping_ in the bed together,” said Zayn quietly, giving Harry a soft smile. Harry looked down, blushing. “You’re treating him like a proper boyfriend but you’re telling him you just want to be casual. It’s not fair, Haz. He’s pretty far gone for you.”

Harry’s eyes flew to Zayn’s face. “Did he say that?”

“No,” said Zayn, shaking his head. “Just anyone with eyes can see it.” Zayn stood from the bed and looked at Harry again, a small smile on his lips. “And you look at him like he hung the moon.”

Harry looked at Zayn, speechless, and swallowed nervously.

*******

Harry lay in his bed long after Zayn left the room.

“I’m breaking his heart,” whispered Harry to the empty room, throwing an arm over his eyes. He felt an overwhelming sense of shame, the realisation that he’d been so painfully selfish for a year dawning clearly as he thought of Zayn’s words.

No, he supposed Zayn was right. He _wasn’t_ being fair. Because while he enjoyed the friends-with-benefits relationship he had with Niall, he’d failed to see that Niall wanted more from the relationship.

And Harry wasn’t really sure what to do.

*******

The next few weeks were a bit awkward. It seemed that everyone—at least Zayn, Liam, and Louis—could feel the tension that settled thick in the air when Harry and Niall were together.

While Harry slept in the room assigned to Niall, the blonde spent most nights in Zayn’s room. Niall couldn’t bring himself to sleep in the spare room because that felt too _final_ , too much like a threat to never go back to Harry; sharing a room with Zayn felt more like a promise that this separation was all just temporary, a hint that he didn’t really want it all to end. He hoped that Harry knew that.

Much to everyone’s relief, though, the end of August meant a short break from touring, ten days apart.

Harry found himself thinking about Niall even more now that they weren’t together constantly than he did when they were nearly attached at the hip, the empty spaces where Niall’s body and silent moments where Niall’s laugh had been constant reminders of his absence.

Because although Harry hadn’t really acknowledged before how much he absolutely adored Niall, how devastatingly _in love_ with Niall he was, he realised now that Niall was probably the most important person in his life. Niall made him so unbelievably _happy_ , so loved and special and comfortable.

* * *

 

Harry couldn’t help but feel, as he lay alone in bed after their first show in Pasadena, that things were still _off_ between him and Niall. Though the concert had gone perfectly and they’d all had so much fun, as they always did at their first show after some time apart, Harry and Niall’s interactions before and after had felt tense and awkward, almost uncomfortable. Harry hated it, the persistent thought of _I’ve ruined this I’ve ruined us_ running on repeat until he fell into a restless sleep.

And then it reached fever pitch the next day.

Harry and Niall had an interview with Richard Wilkins for Australia’s _Today Show_ before their show that night. Harry knew immediately that it would be awkward, stilted, because he wasn’t really sure how to _act_ around Niall now. He felt stiff, uncomfortable with the idea of their usual flirty banter.

Beside him, Niall seemed tentative, almost as though he was unsure if he could giggle and smile and act normally around Harry. Harry felt guilty because he _knew_ that Niall’s insecurities were his fault.

At the mention of Niall’s knee surgery and his sunburnt scar, Harry felt a rush of affection, concern for his boy. He reached out and touched it instinctively, making a playful sizzling sound when his fingers brushed the skin.

With Niall’s soft giggle and smile, Harry felt a shift in the atmosphere. He looked at Niall for the first time, properly, and just studied him, studied the way his lips and his head moved as he talked and was struck by how deep his feelings for Niall truly were.

And he knew then that he couldn’t just let this go on as it had been, couldn’t lose Niall because of his own selfish stupidity.

“Thanks for the interview, mate. Nice to see you again,” said Niall as the interview ended a few minutes later, standing up quickly and shaking Richard’s hand. “Got to check on me guitar. Enjoy the show!” And without another word or a backward glance, Niall slipped out of the room.

Harry stared after him for a few seconds, stunned by Niall’s eagerness to leave the room. There was no need for Niall to rush to his guitar and Harry knew that; it was just an excuse to get back to the other lads, to get away from Harry for a few minutes, and it hurt.

“He’s a bit weird with his guitar,” said Harry slowly, turning back to look at Richard and giving the older man a half-smile. “Thanks for the interview, like Niall said. It’s always nice to see you.” He shook the man’s hand and said politely, “I’d better get back to the lads too. It’s nearly showtime.”

After a round of handshakes for all of the television crew, Harry left the room. Stepping out into the hallway, he headed toward the Green Room. Harry stopped outside the closed door for a minute, eyes shut as he talked himself into his next move, before he pushed the door open and walked in.

Liam and Louis sat on one of the sofas, controllers in their hands as they focused their full attention on their game on the television. Zayn lay on another sofa, watching the boys’ game with an expression of mild interest.

Harry spotted Niall on the third sofa, his guitar on his knee as he absentmindedly strummed the instrument.

Harry walked toward Niall, everything around him disappearing as he approached the blonde. He stopped in front of Niall, watching the way his fingers moved on the strings. “Stay with me tonight,” he said quietly, lifting his gaze from where it rested on Niall’s hands to the boy’s face. Niall looked back, blue eyes wide and pretty pink lips parted slightly. “ _Please_ ,” he pleaded.

Niall inhaled and blinked at Harry. “Okay,” he whispered.

*******

Niall walked into Harry’s room, _his room_ , duffle bag on his shoulder. He dropped his bag to the floor and walked to Harry. “Hi, Harry,” he said quietly.

“Hi, Niall,” said Harry, looking up from where he sat on the bed, already showered and in joggers and a tee. He suddenly felt nervous, like a teenager on his first date.

“Don’t be nervous, Harry,” whispered Niall as he sat on the bed next to Harry. His expression was soft, eyes glimmering with love.

“I’m not- I’m not nervous,” said Harry unconvincingly. “It’s just… butterflies.”

“Them pesky butterflies,” tutted Niall, his lips quirked up into a small smile as he turned to Harry. “Kiss me, pet.”

Harry smiled bashfully and ducked his head to press his lips to Niall’s, gentle and sweet and chaste. He hoped Niall could feel what he felt.

*******

“Niall,” said Harry an hour later, cuddled into Niall’s arms under the blankets, their legs tangled and fingers intertwined against Harry’s tummy.

“Hmm?” hummed Niall.

“Um…” He was silent for a moment, chewing on his lip as he debated with himself exactly what he wanted to say and _how_ he wanted to say it. “I love you,” he said finally and cringed at his words. It had been far less graceful than he’d wanted, not flowing and eloquent and _romantic_ like Niall deserved.

Niall sighed contentedly behind him. “I love you too.”

“Niall,” said Harry again, pushing himself out of Niall’s arms and turning so he could look at the blonde, a serious expression on his face, “I’m _in love_ with you.”

Niall’s eyes opened wide and his lips parted. “Ohh,” he said on an exhale. “Harry—”

“It’s- it’s,” stuttered Harry immediately. “I’m sorry.”

“—I’m in love with you too. Have been for a while now.” He smiled sweetly. “Was hoping you’d be my boyfriend, if I’m being honest.”

Harry smiled back, dimples deep and eyes crinkled, and leant forward to kiss Niall.

 

**Book 2**

“Niall,” said Harry quietly, sadly, “did we do something _wrong_?”

Niall didn’t know what to say. It was a question that had been plaguing him for the last twenty-four hours too, since Zayn had told them that he was leaving the tour, going home. “ _It’s just… It’s too much_ ,” he’d told them.

“I don’t think so, pet,” said Niall. He looked down at Harry where he lay with his head in Niall’s lap and combed his hair back from his face, tucking the few strands behind Harry’s little ear. “Oh, _I_ _know_ , pet,” he said, voice wavering, noticing the tears on Harry’s cheeks.

*******

Zayn’s departure strengthened the bond between the four remaining boys but, in a way that was really inevitable, strengthened the relationship between Harry and Niall and brought Louis and Liam together more than they’d ever been. It was an obvious divide but it didn’t seem awkward or uncomfortable and didn’t seem to have any negative effects.

Although everyone kept telling the boys that things would feel normal again, things never really felt normal again because _normal_ meant five boys and now they were four. After some time, though, things felt alright again, good even. Liam, ever level-headed and clear-thinking, told the lads that this was just their _new_ _normal_ , and they supposed that he was right.

* * *

 

As July ended and they moved into August, the boys worked their way through the North American leg of On the Road Again.

 _Made In The A.M._ was completed and _Drag Me Down_ was released, things that filled all four boys with nervous excitement.

The night before the music video for _Drag Me Down_ was released, Harry tossed and turned in the bed beside Niall.

“Harry,” said Niall a little irritably after about forty-five minutes of Harry’s constant restlessness, “what’s wrong?”

“‘M nervous, Ni,” he mumbled.

“About what?” asked Niall, still a little irritable.

“About the video,” said Harry.

“Haz, don’t be nervous,” said Niall, the edge in his tone gone. He reached to grab one of Harry’s hands and found it shaking with nerves. “Baby,” he said gently, “calm down.”

“I- I can’t,” said Harry, voice shaky now.

Niall wasn’t sure why Harry was so nervous; the single’s initial release a few weeks earlier had proven that their music was still well-received, despite the loss of Zayn. And Harry hadn’t been nervous about the track’s release.

“Relax, pet,” said Niall.

Harry was silent for a few minutes, hand still shaking in Niall’s. “Can you, um, can you _help_ me relax?”

 _Ahhh_ , thought Niall. “Are you going to be my good boy, love?” he asked.

“Yes, Niall,” said Harry. “Yes.”

“Okay, love,” said Niall. “Take off your joggers, yeah.”

Harry nodded, taking his hand out of Niall’s and shifting to slip his sweatpants off.

Once Harry’s joggers were discarded on the floor next to the bed, Niall pushed himself up and turned to Harry, hovering over his boyfriend. He studied the boy’s face, looking at his green eyes flecked with gold now in the soft moonlight and his beautiful cherry-red lips, plump and perfect. He leant down and captured Harry’s lips with his own, kissing him deeply, thoroughly.

With tender touches, Niall eased Harry’s hand down to the brunette’s long cock, wrapping the boy’s fingers around himself. Placing his hand atop Harry’s, Niall encouraged Harry into a slow, steady jerking motion, still kissing him firmly.

Within a few minutes, Harry was hard, fully erect and moaning against Niall’s lips.

“Shh, baby,” whispered Niall against Harry’s lips. “Keep doing this, yeah?” he said as he moved with Harry a few more times before removing his hand from Harry’s cock and sitting up.

Eyes closed, Harry did as instructed, continuing to jerk himself off while Niall rummaged around trying to find lube.

Finally, Harry felt Niall’s weight settle over him, straddling him with his skinny knees to either side of Harry’s hips.

“Alright, pet,” Niall whispered, dripping a bit of lube on the head of Harry’s cock, “rub that down. Yeah. Be my good boy and get yourself ready for me, baby.”

Harry gathered the lube with his fingers and spread it down his length.

“Good boy,” mumbled Niall again, lifting himself up above Harry. “Fill me up, love.”

Without a sound, Harry lined up the tip of his cock with Niall’s hole and rubbed it around the rim before slipping it in slowly. Harry’s hands moved up to Niall’s waist and slid behind, cupping Niall’s bum as he pressed the blonde down, his long cock sheathed deep in Niall’s tight hole.

“Oh, _fuck_ , baby. You’re so good. Feel so good,” slurred Niall, drunk with the feel of Harry filling him and stretching him just right. He moaned as Harry fucked him deep, long thrusts rubbing his prostate perfectly. “Uh, baby. Do you know how, _ohh_ , do you know how per-perfect you are?”

Harry whined, bucking his hips up and grinding himself into Niall’s arse. “Niall, Niall,” he babbled. “Please, Niall. _I love you_.”

“Oh, pet,” said Niall, “I love you too. _God_ , I love you so much.”

“Mmmm,” whimpered Harry, high and throaty.

“Baby, Harry, you’re so perfect. _You’re so perfect_ ,” whispered Niall, bouncing a bit on Harry’s hard cock, his own firm cock slapping against his tummy with each move. “God, I’ll love you forever. I know it.”

And suddenly Niall felt Harry go lax, his hips no longer bucking against Niall. The blonde opened his eyes and looked down at his boyfriend. Harry looked dazed, lost in a daydream, eyes blurry and lips parted slightly.

“Harry?” asked Niall quietly, a little uncertain. “Baby?” he said again, placing a hand gently on the side of Harry’s face and slowing down his movements but not stopping.

Harry blinked slowly, _so slowly_ , and whispered, sticky and sweet and _slow_ like honey, “Niall. I love you.”

Niall leant forward, pressing his lips to Harry’s in a slow, easy kiss. “Oh, Harry. Baby. I love you too.”

“Niall,” grunted Harry. Niall felt Harry’s body tense slightly as he came deep inside Niall’s hole. “Niall!”

“I’m right here, baby,” said Niall quietly, feeling Harry’s length softening. He traced soothing circles with his thumb on Harry’s cheek, watching Harry’s unfocused eyes grow heavy with sleep. “I’m here, love,” he said again, shifting his hips to let Harry’s cock slip from his arse.

Harry felt floaty, warm and fluid, like melted gold. He reached out slowly and placed his hand on top of Niall’s where it still rested on the side of his flushed cheek. “I love you, Niall. It’s like sunshine with you.” He smiled sleepily, eyes fluttering closed.

“I love you too, pet,” said Niall, moving to lay beside his boyfriend on the mattress. He pulled Harry against his body, arm around his waist in a tender hug, placing kisses to Harry’s neck and cheeks. “So much. I don’t think you even know,” he whispered against Harry’s skin.

*******

The last month and a half of the tour was filled with promo for _Made In The A.M._

Though not unexpected, the boys found that interviewers wanted to talk about their hiatus, about their plans for their hiatus, far more than they were really comfortable with. Because although they’d all talked about what they wanted to do and how they wanted to spend their time, discussed goals and dreams and ideas, even joked around about their plans to do absolutely nothing and then mentioned songwriting sessions and potential side projects in the same conversation, being asked by interviewers suddenly made it seem too _real_.

Tucked away in their room, Niall and Harry spent many long nights talking about _their_ plans, plans they hadn’t even mentioned to Louis or Liam, plans that both realised could very easily affect their relationship.

And it was scary. Because reality outside of their lives inside their One Direction bubble was different and _massive_ and so _wide-open_.

It didn’t seem that Niall’s plans to further his golf management company would impact their relationship too much; it was mostly business, Niall repeatedly told Harry, and wouldn’t change his schedule too much, wouldn’t make it too difficult to see Harry regularly.

Even Harry’s plans to work on a solo project, maybe dip his toe into the fashion world for real, didn’t seem to be much to worry about. Harry was excited to write for and record his solo album and couldn’t fathom the idea of doing it without Niall’s help and support. Niall looked forward to time in the studio with Harry, not as the artist but as his supportive boyfriend, as the one Harry trusted to hear all of his ideas and give him whatever feedback and advice he could. And Niall couldn’t wait to watch Harry walk the runways in Paris and London and New York and Milan, to dazzle everyone with his brilliant confidence so gracefully mixed with his beautiful humility and humble modesty.

It was Harry’s mention of an audition for a role in a Christopher Nolan film that shocked Niall. He was happy for his boyfriend, proud of him, excited that Harry had such an amazing opportunity open to him.

But he was nervous too. Acting was a different world, one he knew almost nothing about. The ins and outs of Hollywood seemed so much different from their own world, their own self-contained universe.

And while Niall knew Harry would fit into that life without any problem, with his Gucci and long hair and kale smoothies and easy Hollywood rock star charm, he questioned whether he would fit in so seamlessly. His own insecurities and doubts reminded him that he was just a butcher’s son from Mullingar.

He didn’t belong in Hollywood.

*******

“You’re home, love,” Harry whispered to Niall, holding him close, pressing a smile against his temple. They had just arrived in Dublin, the first of their three Dublin shows the next day.

“Home,” agreed Niall. “This is where I belong.”

“You’re so Irish.” Harry gave a small chuckle. “My little leprechaun.”

“No, Haz,” said Niall, shaking his head, “this is _where I belong_.”

“Niall”—Harry pulled back and looked at Niall—“what?”

“I don’t belong in L.A., Haz,” said Niall sadly, looking away from Harry and closing his eyes. “I’m not like you. I’m just- I’m just the cute Irish one with wonky teeth, Haz.”

“Niall,” whispered Harry, cupping Niall’s freckled face in his big hands, “Niall, I feel like- I’ve always thought that… you belong with me. Wherever we are together is where you belong. Where we- where we _both_ belong.”

A few tears slipped out from Niall’s closed eyelids and Harry wiped them away with his thumb. “Really?” asked Niall quietly, opening his eyes.

“Oh, kitten,” said Harry, just as quietly, “ _of course_. I’ll love you forever.”

*******

Harry spent the next few days trying to show Niall that he belonged both to Ireland and with him. Somehow, it seemed most fitting to remind Niall just how much he loved him, just how important all of the memories he’d made with Niall—including his first trip to Ireland with Niall five years earlier when Harry had been struck by how much he loved Niall—truly were to him, while Niall was home and where he felt he belonged.

And he wanted to show Niall how much _he_ loved Ireland because it was something so important to Niall, so special and familiar and comfortable to Niall, something that made Niall as happy as he hoped to make Niall.

“There are three things—there’s obviously a lot more than three things but we don’t have time to do more than three things—there are three things that we love about Ireland,” Harry told the crowd on the second night in Dublin. “Maple syrup is not one of them. The first one is Niall.”

Later that night, back in their hotel room, Niall looked at Harry. “Did you mean all of that before? The things you love about Ireland?”

“‘Course,” said Harry, shrugging. “They’re all your favourite things. How could I _not_ love them?”

“They’re not _all_ of my favourite things, pet,” Niall told him, stalking toward the brunette, eyes a stormy dark grey-blue. “You forgot one.”

“Yeah?” asked Harry breathily, watching as Niall walked closer to him. “What’d I- what’d I forget?”

Niall stood in front of Harry, closing the gap with one last step, and pressed his body to Harry’s front. He looked up into Harry’s eyes and smirked.

“You.”

 

**Book 3**

It had been just over a month since their hiatus began and Harry and Niall hadn’t seen each other since a few days before Christmas—they’d spent three days together in London before Harry headed off to Holmes Chapel and Niall had flown to Mullingar.

Now it had been a few weeks since the New Year. Harry and Niall were both in London for a few days and Harry had eagerly invited Niall over to hang out.

And though Niall had missed Harry terribly, he was a little less enthusiastic to see Harry.

Because, although he’d not told Harry during any of their phone conversations or in any of their texts, Niall had been upset by Harry’s yacht vacation with Kendall. It seemed that the pictures had been everywhere, unavoidable and insistent, constantly serving as proof that Niall just didn’t fit into Harry’s life.

Harry hadn’t mentioned his holiday either, though, and that made it even worse.

So it was with some reservations and a sense of unease that Niall went to Harry’s to see him.

“Niall!” exclaimed Harry as he let Niall into the house, scooping him up in a hug. Niall tucked his face into Harry’s neck, an old habit that he supposed would be nearly impossible to break if he ever chose to try. “Oh, kitten! I’ve missed you _so_ much.”

“I missed you too, pet,” said Niall honestly, pulling back from Harry slightly and looking up at his face.

Harry smiled at him, eyes bright. “I just thought maybe… we could stay in tonight,” suggested Harry.

Niall nodded. “Yeah, that’ll be nice, Haz.”

“Good! Dinner and a movie, maybe?” he asked. “We could order Indian. Masala Zone makes an awesome chicken korma.”

“Sure, Haz,” said Niall, smiling at the brunette. “Sounds good.”

*******

Harry and Niall were only about ten minutes into their movie when Harry turned toward Niall and dropped his head down, placing kisses to Niall’s neck. Niall moaned and tilted his head back, eyes closing, giving Harry better access to the length of his throat.

“ _God_ , Niall,” whimpered Harry, lips grazing Niall’s sensitive skin, “I’ve missed you.”

“Mmmm,” hummed Niall.

“I need you, love,” whispered Harry. “ _Please_.”

“Please”—Niall opened his eyes and turned to look at Harry, blinking quickly, suddenly aware of what was happening, what he was _allowing_ to happen—“what?”

“I’ve missed you so much, love,” said Harry. “Please let me- can I—”

“I- Haz,” stuttered Niall, “I’d just like a- I’d just like a cuddle tonight, pet.”

“Oh,” said Harry, sitting up a bit, “okay.”

Niall smiled at Harry and let Harry pull him into his chest, settling back as the movie played.

Niall tried to focus on the movie, tried to ignore the thoughts that chased each other around in his head and caused the twitchy unease in his chest, but found he couldn’t.

“So what’s up with you and Kendall?” Niall asked, feeling like he did that night after they’d filmed the video for “You & I” and he’d asked Harry the same question. “Have fun on that yacht, did ya?”

“Niall,” Harry said, “we’re just friends. You know that.”

“Like how we were ‘just friends’ back before Zayn made you feel like a right twat for leading me on for a fucking year?” Niall shot back, voice dripping with hurt.

“Niall, _we’ve_ never been ‘just friends.’”

“For someone who’s so certain we’ve never been ‘just friends,’ you sure spent a lot of time trying to convince me we should keep it casual,” Niall told Harry sadly. “A year of ‘casual’ before you told me you were in love with me.”

“Niall, I can’t… Do you think I- you think I _cheated_?” Harry asked, tears on his eyelashes.

“No. I don’t think you cheated,” Niall said, shaking his head. “But when I saw you with her, when I saw those pictures, I knew you’d realised I was right,” Niall sounded dejected, _resigned_ to what he thought was the truth.

“Right about _what_ , Ni?”

“I don’t belong with you.” He sighed. “I don’t _fit_.”

“Niall,” said Harry, “what does that—”

“You lied to me, kept telling me you _love me_ and that we belong together.” Niall sounded frustrated, pained, eyes glimmering with tears. “You didn’t even _tell_ me. You didn’t _talk_ to me.”

“Talk to you about _what_ , Niall?” Harry asked, tears falling from his eyelashes and desperate confusion on his face.

“You realised that I don’t fit. But she does.” Harry reached for Niall and Niall pulled back, leant away from Harry’s touch. “She fits. She belongs there, with you.”

“No, she doesn’t! Niall, no, she doesn’t!” Harry cried in earnest, wet tears dripping down his cheeks and nose. “It’s only you, Niall! Just you who fits. You’re the only one who makes me feel- the only one who makes me feel _quiet_.”

“What?” Niall asked, furiously blinking away his own tears. “What do you mean, _quiet_?”

“You’re the only one who feels like sunshine.”

Niall inhaled sharply and exhaled deeply, thinking of all of the times Harry had told him that he _felt like sunshine_ while he looked up at Niall with heavy daydream eyes and a blissed-out little smile.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Niall whispered.

“ _Niall_ ,” Harry begged, trying again to reach for Niall, to hold his hand and make him touch him, make him _love him_ and _make love_ to him, “make it stop hurting. Make it feel like sunshine. _Please_.”

“I can’t, Harry,” Niall said, heartbroken. “I don’t- I don’t trust you.”

“But- but, N-N-Niall,” Harry spluttered, “I trust _you_.”

“I know, pet,” Niall whispered, tears streaking his face now too, “but that’s not enough. I can’t be with you- can’t help you… the way you're asking me to, if I don’t trust you too. It doesn’t work like that.” He sighed again, covering his face with his hands. “I think I need to be away for a while.”

* * *

 

Niall sat on Maya beach, the sun nearly set behind the rocks on the Bay’s horizon. He was alone, away from the rest of his fellow travellers, only his guitar keeping him company. _So far from the stars_.

It had been almost two months since Niall had last seen Harry a few weeks after the New Year.

Niall watched as the sun sank deeper behind the rocks, the beach almost completely dark except for the lights from boats in the Bay and the Sleep Aboard tour’s social area far down the beach.

“And I know that it’s wrong that I can’t move on, but there’s something ‘bout you,” sang Niall quietly, plucking out a few notes on his guitar.

If Niall was being honest, he knew he’d _never_ be able to move on.

* * *

 

Harry stopped by Niall’s house in London one night in late April with a guitar case.

“Hi, Harry,” said Niall uncertainly. “What are you doing”—he shook his head and stepped aside to let Harry in the front door—“Come in, please.”

Harry stepped into the house and set the guitar case on the floor. Before Niall even realised what was happening, Harry scooped Niall into a hug, holding him tight against his body.

“Hi, kitten,” he whispered into Niall’s ear. “I miss you.”

Niall closed his eyes and nuzzled his face into Harry’s neck, his cologne overwhelming his senses. Lost in the feeling of Harry’s arms around his back and fingers tracing circles on Niall’s waist, Niall sighed. “I miss you too,” he whispered, placing a few soft kisses to Harry’s throat.

Harry gasped and Niall was startled back to reality. He took a quick step back from Harry and, looking somewhere above the brunette’s left shoulder, asked, “So, um, would you like a- a beer or something?”

“Uh, sure. Yeah,” said Harry, eyes dropping to the floor. He nodded a few times. “That would be nice.”

“Okay. Right,” said Niall, feeling a bit stilted and uncomfortable. “Um, why don’t you go into the living room and I’ll, uh, I’ll go get some beer.”

“Yeah. Good,” said Harry, stooping to pick up the guitar case.

*******

“So,” said Niall, handing Harry a bottle of beer before sitting down on the other end of the sofa, careful to leave plenty of space between Harry and himself, “what’s up?”

“I got the part.” Harry gave Niall a half-smile, bittersweet and laced with heartache. “In the Nolan film, I mean.”

“Yeah?” said Niall, eyes widening. “Oh, Haz, that’s- that’s incredible!”

“Yeah,” said Harry, smiling that bittersweet smile still. “It’ll be an amazing opportunity.”

“Yeah,” agreed Niall, studying Harry’s pained smile and sad eyes. He was silent for a few moments, both boys sipping their beers. “What’s wrong, Haz?” he asked finally.

“Nothing,” said Harry, closing his eyes and downing the rest of his beer in one gulp.

“Haz,” said Niall, firm but loving and soft, “What’s wrong, pet?”

Harry opened his eyes and looked at Niall. “I love you _so much_ ,” he said, blinking back tears. “I love you so much and I don’t understand why you don’t think… why you think you don’t belong with me.”

Niall’s face fell, his brows scrunching together, eyes mirroring the heartbreak in Harry’s voice. “It’s not _you_ , love,” said Niall, trying desperately to make Harry understand. “I don’t belong in L.A. I don’t fit into that life and that- that _is_ your life. You deserve someone who fits into your life. _All_ of your life. And I don’t.”

“But _you do_ , Niall!” said Harry, crying freely. “ _My_ _life_ is wherever you are! If you don’t like L.A., we won’t go to L.A. I’ll just go when I need to!”

“Harry, you _love_ L.A.,” said Niall, reaching out to caress Harry’s face and wipe tears off of his cheeks. “I can’t be the reason you don’t enjoy the things you love.”

“ _I love you_ ,” said Harry, pressing his lips to the palm of Niall’s hand.

“I’m only one thing,” said Niall, voice wavering as the tears that clung to his eyelashes began to slide down his cheeks.

“You’re _everything_ , though,” whispered Harry pleadingly.

“I’m not,” said Niall, shaking his head, begging Harry with his eyes to understand. “ _I’m not_.”

The room was quiet for a few minutes, the only sound their wet sniffles and breathing.

“I never lied to you, Niall,” said Harry finally. “I’ve meant it every single time I’ve told you I love you. And I _know_ you belong with me, Niall.” He looked at the blonde, so sincere and genuine, pleading with Niall to believe him. “I _never_ lied to you.”

“I know.” Niall nodded and blinked rapidly, tears clinging to his eyelashes. “I know that now.”

There was silence again, neither looking at the other, neither knowing what to say now.

“I should… go,” said Harry finally, standing up.

“Um, yeah,” said Niall, rubbing his eyes with his hands. He looked up when he heard the front door close; his eyes landed on the guitar case leaning against the sofa where Harry had been sitting. Quickly, he jumped up and grabbed the case, running toward the front door.

He stepped onto his front porch in time to see Harry opening his car door. “Harry!” yelled Niall. The brunette turned to look at Niall. “You forgot your guitar!”

“No, I didn’t,” said Harry, shaking his head. “It’s for you.” Without another word, he climbed into his car and closed the door.

*******

Niall unlatched the clasps on the guitar case and lifted the top.

“Oh, wow,” he sighed, looking at the beautiful guitar inside. He’d gushed to Harry ages ago about this guitar, telling him how McCartney had written and recorded “Yesterday” on a 1964 Texan Epiphone. He lifted the instrument from the case and pulled it into his lap.

A card fluttered down to the floor and Niall leant forward to pick it up.

Written in Harry’s handwriting, it said simply— _All the love, Yours Forever H x_

“Oh, Harry,” whispered Niall to his empty living room.

* * *

 

A solo career hadn’t ever really been a part of Niall’s plans for the hiatus. Liam and Harry had both talked about solo albums but Louis and Niall had stuck with their ideas for other ventures—Niall’s golf management and Louis’ record label.

So Niall wasn’t really sure what made him change his mind, what made him decide to sign the solo deal with Capitol Records.

He thought maybe his backpacking trip and the 1964 Epiphone Texan guitar that Harry gave him had something to do with it though.

*******

When Capitol first asked him if he had any idea what type of music he might like to pursue, if he had any idea what his personal sound might be, he’d said he had a good idea. He’d picked up a guitar and played the song he’d written on the beach at Maya Bay, one he’d first started as a short story in the front of his notebook.

It was a story about Harry, a song about Harry, and it was so very _Niall_.

They loved it, wanted Niall in the studio to record it as soon as he was able. They were excited, eager to release it as his first single and let everyone know that Niall Horan was working on a solo album. And Niall was excited, pleased that his song was so warmly received.

His first instinct was to call Harry, to tell him everything; he had a solo deal, he was in the studio working on his first single and would be doing promo once the song was released, and that he was excited and scared in equal parts.

He hesitated though, kept waiting to call Harry because he didn’t think he was ready to tell him just yet. He knew it was ridiculous because he knew Harry would be proud of him, so happy for Niall and how far he’d come since _Up All Night_.

But he also knew that Harry would want to hear the song before it was released. And Harry would know right away that it was about him. Niall wasn’t really sure whether he _wanted_ Harry to realise the song was about him, _for him_ , or not. He supposed he did. That’s why he’d written it, after all.

Now that he was actually recording the song and it would be released soon, though, Niall was incredibly aware of now nerve-wracking a prospect that was.

*******

“What’s Harry think of the song?” Deo asked Niall one day in mid-September.

“What?” asked Niall, looking up from his guitar and across the kitchen island at his cousin.

“What’s Harry think of the song?” he repeated.

“He hasn’t heard it,” said Niall simply.

“Figured he’d be begging to hear it soon as you told him about the solo deal,” said Deo, sounding a little surprised at Harry’s seeming lack of curiosity.

“He doesn’t know about that either.”

“He doesn’t know about what?” asked Deo, sounding confused now. “Wait. Niall, _you haven’t told Harry about your solo deal_?”

Niall looked at his cousin’s look of absolute shock and said quietly, “No, I haven’t.” He sighed and dropped his head. “I’m scared to tell him.”

“Do you think he’ll be upset?” Deo asked. “Because I’m _sure_ he won’t be.”

“No,” said Niall, shaking his head, “I think he’ll want to hear the song.”

“Well, yeah,” said Deo, brows scrunched in confusion for a few moments before realisation seemed to dawn on him. “ _Oh_.”

“Yeah,” said Niall, nodding and smiling a sad little forlorn smile. “ _Oh_.”

*******

A few days before “This Town” was set to be released, Niall spent four hours working up the courage to call Harry and ask him to come over so they could talk. He spent nearly forty-five minutes with his thumb hovering over the little phone icon under Harry’s name before he finally tapped the screen.

It was only the three shots of whiskey Niall had downed after talking to Harry on the phone that kept him from being a completely frantic nervous wreck when Harry arrived an hour later.

“Hi, love. Is everything- is everything alright, Ni?” asked Harry as he stepped through the front door, standing awkwardly with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket as if he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands, if he could hug Niall or if he should shake his hand or _what he should do_. “You sounded… different on the phone. Nervous.” He looked worried.

“Why don’t you just come in?” suggested Niall. “We can go sit,” he said lamely. “I can tell you- We can talk.” He took a deep breath and exhaled. “I can tell you everything.”

“Niall,” said Harry suddenly, grabbing Niall’s hand and stopping the boy from turning toward the living room. “I miss you, love.”

Niall blinked at Harry. “I miss you too, Haz. Every second.” With a nervous smile, Niall slowly turned his hand in Harry’s and laced their fingers together. “Come on, pet. Let me- let me tell you everything.”

“Okay, Niall,” said Harry, nodding and allowing Niall to lead him into the living room.

Niall brought Harry to the sofa and sat down next to him, fingers still twined with Harry’s. “Okay,” said Niall, huffing out a breath. “Okay. I got a- I signed a solo deal, Haz.”

“Niall!” exclaimed Harry, beaming with pride. “Oh, baby! I’m _so_ proud of you!” He squeezed Niall’s hand. “Who’d you sign with?”

“Capitol.”

“Niall!” said Harry again, eyes wide and dimples deep; he sounded just as excited as Niall had been when he’d first signed the deal. “Oh, kitten! Are you gonna be in the studio soon?”

“Um,” began Niall a little hesitantly, “I, um, I already have been. A little bit.”

Harry looked a little surprised. “You have been?”

“Yeah,” said Niall. “They wanted, um, they wanted a single to release. Like, to let people know I’m working on an album.”

“Wow,” said Harry.

“Yeah,” agreed Niall, giving a nervous little chuckle.

“Have you got a song ready then?” asked Harry.

“Um, yeah. Yes,” said Niall, nodding. “It’s done.” He gave a tiny shrug.

“It’s done? Niall, that’s—”

“It’s gonna be released on Thursday.”

Harry stared at Niall, dumbstruck. Niall felt itchy under Harry’s gaze, unsure what he was thinking.

“Haz?”

“Can I hear it?” asked Harry, timid and uncertain.

Niall nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Let me”—he stood up from the sofa—“let me go get my laptop.”

He returned a minute later, laptop in hand. He sat back down next to Harry and opened the computer, setting it down on the coffee table and finding the file.

“I’ll just go get a few beers, yeah,” said Niall a bit anxiously as he stood back up.

“Should I wait for you then?” asked Harry, pointing at the MacBook.

“No, go ahead,” said Niall, gesturing to the computer. “I’ve heard it already, haven’t I?” he joked, trying to lighten the knot of nerves that sat heavy in his stomach.

He quickly left the room, heading to the kitchen, and heard the first notes of “This Town” playing from the laptop. Walking into the kitchen, he took a deep breath and noticed he was shaking with nerves.

He’d been dreading this. _This_ was exactly why he’d not told Harry about his solo deal, about his single. He loved the song, was so pleased with it. He _knew_ it was good but he was nervous.

Niall decided to make some popcorn, thinking it would excuse his absence a little longer since it really only took a minute to go to the kitchen and grab a couple beers. He waited, feeling a little panicked as the microwave gave a countdown to his fate.

He heard the song end and, without thinking, without waiting the last seventeen seconds for the popcorn, Niall grabbed the two beer bottles in his hands and walked back to the living room.

Harry stood up from his seat when Niall entered the room. He walked toward Niall, steady and purposeful, with tears glistening in his eyes. Niall wanted to say something, wanted to ask Harry what he thought, but those sparkling green eyes and the serious look on Harry’s face choked him and left him speechless.

Harry made his way across the room to Niall, reaching out to take Niall’s face in his hands when he finally stood in front of the blonde. Blue eyes met green for just a few seconds before Harry leant in and kissed Niall, soft and breathless, and Niall felt that time had stopped. Everything had stopped; Niall didn’t need to ask Harry anything because Harry _knew_ that the song was for him. He understood.

And now Harry was taking what had been his all along.

Harry kissed Niall, slow and gentle, and Niall felt an ache in his chest that he suspected was connected to the fluttering in his stomach, the same butterflies he’d written about. He hoped Harry felt it too, hoped it ached in his chest and hoped that butterflies were fluttering like mad in his stomach.

Wordlessly, Harry took the beer bottles from Niall and dropped them on the sofa before taking one of Niall’s hands in his own and leading him to the bedroom. Niall followed Harry, acutely aware of his pulse in his ears and his throat and his toes.

At the bedroom door, Harry led Niall in and walked him to the foot of the bed. He looked at Niall with doe eyes, sweet and trusting, and waited for Niall to take control.

“Please,” he whispered.

Niall stepped toward him, his hands coming up to Harry’s face, head dipping down again to kiss him, a gentle peck on the lips. Niall reached down and pulled at the hem of Harry’s shirt, lifting it up and pulling it over his head.

Shirt dropped to the floor, Niall tilted his head up to place a few kisses on Harry’s lips and cheek as he moved his hands down to unbutton and unzip Harry’s jeans. Niall pushed the pants down, fingers dragging down Harry’s hips and soft thighs, and then slipped his fingers into the waistband of Harry’s boxers, repeating the gentle caresses to Harry’s body as he pushed them down to meet the jeans on the floor. Harry stepped out of them awkwardly, conscious of his naked body, and kicked the jeans and boxers away from their feet.

Niall took a step back and gazed at Harry, the only light in the room the pale afternoon sunlight filtering through the curtains.

“You’re so beautiful,” said Niall, hushed, awe on his face and head tilted to the side as he continued to study Harry’s nude body.

Harry supposed that he should feel self-conscious, should feel a little anxious, as he stood before Niall while the blonde stared at his body; he was surprised to realise that he didn’t feel uncomfortable at all because it was _Niall_ and he kind of always wanted Niall to look at him like this, like he was the sun and the moon, because Niall was _his_ sun and moon.

Niall undressed and came forward again, taking Harry’s hands and leading him to the bed. He laid him down in the middle of the mattress, sprawled out, a splash of sunlight falling on his upper body and face; Niall thought that he looked like an angel, or maybe sin, dark hair contrasting against the white pillowcase and skin glowing in the silvery light.

Niall crawled to Harry’s body and hovered over him, hands flat on the mattress on either side of Harry’s head and knees to either side of Harry’s hips. Niall lowered his face to Harry’s and kissed his right cheek all along the bone, then his left. He kissed down his jaw and along his chin and up the jaw on the other side, wet open-mouthed kisses leaving a hot trail on Harry’s skin as Niall marked him, claimed him.

And then his lips met Harry’s and Harry felt so whole, so _complete_ , that he wanted to cry. He kissed back, kissed like he’d ached for this, ached for Niall’s soothing sunshine touch, for months because he _had_. Niall lifted a hand from the mattress and placed it along the side of Harry’s cheek before sliding it down his jaw and neck and along his collarbones, fingertips brushing so lightly it almost tickled.

Niall pushed himself up, sitting on his knees, and looked at Harry, reverent and awed.

“I love you, Niall,” whispered Harry.

Niall’s eyes fluttered shut. He dropped back down to his hands and kissed along the same path his fingertips had taken just moments before, kissing and nipping at the flesh of Harry’s cheek and jaw and neck and collarbones. The kisses turned from pecks and nips to hot and open-mouthed as Niall moved down Harry’s chest and tummy, Niall’s fingers caressing and massaging Harry’s arms and ribs and waist.

Niall stopped his path just below Harry’s belly button, fingers pressing so firmly into Harry’s hips that he wondered briefly if there would be bruises in the morning. He hoped there would.

Niall pushed himself up again and blinked, tears prickling his eyes, and said the words that Harry craved to hear, had worried for months that he wouldn’t hear again. “I’m in love with you, Harry.”

Harry looked up at Niall, the silent question on his face, and said quietly, almost pleadingly, “ _Please_ , Niall.”

“Oh,” moaned Niall, dropping down to kiss Harry once, chastely, before returning to his previous position. His fingers trailed from Harry’s waist down his hips and tummy and finally to his semi-hard cock. With a gentle but firm grip, Niall began to move one hand up and down Harry’s length, watching him harden under his touch. After a few minutes of teasing, Niall leant forward and licked the tip of Harry’s cock, a little flicker of tongue, and then took the first few inches into his mouth, closing his lips around the flesh. Bobbing his head up and down, Niall took most of Harry’s length into his mouth, tongue tracing the vein along the underside of Harry’s cock.

Harry let out a little moan because Niall’s mouth felt like heaven. Niall hummed, the vibrations only serving to further increase Harry’s arousal, and continued to work Harry until he was more than a little dazed.

“Harry, love,” said Niall sitting up and looking down at the brunette after a few more minutes, sounding a little shy, “Make love to me.” He hesitated for a moment before adding, “Do you want- do you want… me?”

Harry looked at Niall, eyes unfocused and _so green_ , and nodded slowly. “I always want you, Niall. You’re floaty and warm, like sunshine.” Niall sighed and scrambled forward to find lube, returning to his place between Harry’s spread legs a moment later.

“Gotta open me up, love,” said Niall. Harry nodded again and Niall opened the little tube, squirting some of the liquid on Harry’s fingers before he leant down and kissed Harry’s hip, placing a few sweet pecks along the bone. He leant back and sat on his heels, shifting to let Harry move.

Harry pushed himself up a bit, elbows on the mattress to lift his upper body off the bed, and scooted back so he was propped up against the headboard. Niall shuffled forward on his knees and sat himself down on Harry’s lap, legs straddling Harry’s thighs. Harry moved a hand behind Niall and down to his bum, dragging his fingers between Niall’s arse cheeks before pressing a long middle finger to the rim of his tight hole and rubbing it in small circles, slipping it in. Niall’s eyes fluttered shut and a whimper bubbled out.

Harry worked him open slowly, pumping his middle finger in and out, doing as Niall said and adding a second finger when Niall instructed him to.

After a few more minutes of taking the blonde apart, Niall whimpered, “ _Oh_. A-another, _oh God_ , another, love.” Harry worked a third finger in beside the first two, earning a shivery moan and a squeeze around his fingers as Niall’s hole clenched around the added intrusion.

“Oh, Niall,” said Harry, moving his fingers in and out of Niall’s body, “Oh, baby, I love you so much.”

“Harry, Harry,” panted Niall, head dropping down to Harry’s shoulder, eyes closed, “I love you too.”

“Please, Niall?” said Harry quietly.

“Yes. Yes, love,” said Niall, understanding the meaning behind Harry’s words, how much Harry longed to lose himself in Niall, to give himself to Niall is both an emotional and physical expression of his love. “ _I love you_.”

“Oh, Niall,” said Harry, gently easing his fingers out of Niall’s tight hole and wiping them on the sheets. Niall lifted his head from Harry’s shoulder and found the lube, squirting some on his hand. He reached behind himself and gripped Harry’s hard length, massaging his cock and coating it with lube. He nestled it between his arse cheeks and pressed back, lifting his hips to feel the drag of Harry’s cock along his crack.

“Make love to me, Harry,” Niall whispered into Harry’s ear, nibbling softly at the boy’s earlobe. Harry whimpered and guided the tip of his cock to Niall’s hole, inhaling sharply as he pressed into Niall’s body slowly.

“Harry,” Niall whimpered quietly, sweet and high-pitched, as Harry filled him. He’d never felt so perfect.

“Love,” whispered Harry on an exhale, pulling nearly his whole length out before pressing it back into Niall torturously slow. He looked at Niall where he sat on his lap, blond hair gold in the moonlight and skin flushed a dusty pink. “You’re so beautiful.”

Harry continued to pump in and out of Niall, slow and deep, drowning in Niall’s gorgeous moans and whines. His hands glided along Niall’s naked pale skin, touching him everywhere; Niall’s hands gripped Harry’s shoulders and chest, his support and his lifeline to reality.

“I think,” said Niall, whimpering prettily, “I think I’ve, _oh_ , always loved you.”

“Oh my God, Niall,” said Harry, sitting up and lifting his head to kiss Niall’s little pink lips. “I was born to love you.”

He gripped Niall’s waist, helping the blonde lift himself up and lower himself back onto Harry’s cock. Niall’s arms wound around Harry’s neck and he pressed his forehead to Harry’s. Harry’s eyes met Niall’s, green and cloudy and _distant_.

“Harry, baby,” said Niall, placing a hand to the side of Harry’s face, “stay with me here. _Please_. I want, _uh_ , I want you here with me. Okay, love?”

“Mmhm,” hummed Harry, nodding his head against Niall’s. “I love you, Niall.”

“Oh, baby. I love you. I love you,” said Niall, kissing Harry’s lips softly. “ _I love you_.”

Niall continued to ride Harry, languorous and slow, eyes fixed on Harry’s. “I should have told you, Niall,” said Harry, words slurred. “I should have told you I’m in love with you.” He pouted, eyes glimmering suddenly with tears.

Niall kissed Harry again, fingers brushing lightly over Harry’s cheeks. “You did tell me, love,” he whispered against Harry’s lips. “Made my dreams come true.”

“Really?” asked Harry, voice hushed and low and _hopeful_. Niall lifted his hips and dropped himself back into Harry’s lap, Harry’s cock hitting his prostate.

“God, yes, Harry,” breathed Niall. “I’ve loved you for so long.” Unbidden, tears began to roll down his cheeks.

“I didn’t think you’d ever say it again. I was _scared_ ,” said Harry, tears streaking his face now, too. “You’re so perfect. You’re sunshine.”

“You’re an angel, love,” said Niall.

“Oh, oh, oohhh,” Harry panted in time with the rise and fall of Niall’s hips. “Oh, _Niall_. I’m s-so close. _Please_.”

“I’ve got you, baby,” said Niall, head tipping forward to kiss Harry’s lips and tear-streaked cheeks and wet eyelashes.

“ _Niall_!” whined Harry, high and breathy.

“Yeah,” exhaled Niall. “Lay down, love,” he said, pressing a hand to Harry’s chest and encouraging him to lay back on the bed, dreamy and pliant. “I’ve got you,” he whispered again, continuing to ride Harry, slow and languid. He dropped down, chest flush against Harry’s, and pressed kisses to the top of Harry’s head.

“Niall, Niall, Niall,” babbled Harry against Niall’s neck. “I’m…”

“I know, angel,” whispered Niall, voice soothing and sweet like honey. He slipped a hand between their bodies and grasped his own cock, jerking himself quickly.

With a few more drops of Niall’s hips, Harry came, his orgasm leaving him weak and moaning, and Niall held himself down as Harry filled him with his cum.

Hand still moving along his own cock, Niall came, his own release sticky on his hand and between their stomachs.

“You’re _mine_ —”

“Yours,” agreed Harry.

“—and I’m yours,” added Niall.

*******

Harry woke up several hours later, wrapped up in Niall’s soft white duvet, moonlight filtering through the curtains now. He still felt floaty, light and dreamy and warm, liquid gold flowing through his veins.

“Niall?” he said, sitting up a bit and looking around the room.

“Hi, love,” said Niall quietly, gently, from where he sat by the window, guitar on his lap and a bottle of beer on the windowsill.

Harry watched Niall take a sip of his beer and then turn his attention back to his guitar, strumming absentmindedly.

“Sing it for me, Niall?” asked Harry sweetly. “Please?”

Niall looked back to Harry. “Sing what, Haz?”

“Your song. Sing it for me,” he said quietly, a lovely little smile quirking his lips.

“Oh, pet,” said Niall, standing from his seat near the window and walking toward the bed, his 1964 Texan Epiphone in his hand. He smiled back, sitting on the edge of the bed closest to Harry. He leant forward and kissed Harry, chaste and sweet and slow like honey. “Do you- do you feel them butterflies too?”

“I always have, Niall.” Niall sat back and inhaled deeply, struck by the honesty in Harry’s voice. “Sing for me, love,” whispered Harry.

“Okay, Harry,” said Niall as he lifted the guitar into his lap again. “Okay.” With a nervous smile, he began to play.

Harry stared at Niall, watched the emotions play out on his handsome face and how his fingers moved on the strings of the guitar, and was overcome with the emotions that laced the lyrics and dripped from Niall’s voice.

His heart broke and then pieced back together as Niall sang, the realisation that Niall had written this song about Harry, about their relationship and his feelings for Harry, a bit overwhelming. He knew exactly what Niall meant, what the words meant, because he felt the same way. Niall was Harry’s only truth. He’d known for _years_ that he belonged with Niall and that Niall belonged with him, that they were meant for each other, soulmates. He wondered, however, what the words Niall felt he never got to say were; he’d certainly told Harry he loved him enough so it couldn’t be that.

“You still make me nervous when you walk in the room. Them butterflies, they come alive when I’m next to you. Over and over, the only truth. Everything comes back to you,” Niall stilled, his fingers stopping their movements on the strings, and he looked up at Harry. Their eyes met for a few seconds before Niall blinked and sang the last line. “Everything comes back to you.”

The room was quiet for a few moments. Neither boy spoke, unsure what to say or who should start.

“What did you never get to say?” asked Harry finally, curiously.

“I _do_ belong with you. Wherever you are,” said Niall, looking up from his guitar.

“You do,” said Harry, nodding his head vehemently. “You _do_ , Niall. Always.”

“I never said it because I- I don’t think I ever really believed you,” Niall told Harry. Harry watched Niall carefully; he looked lost in thought, contemplating _something_. “It’s true, you know.”

“Which part?” asked Harry, hushed.

“All of it,” said Niall. They were both silent for a few moments. Harry waited patiently, wanting to give Niall the time he needed to say everything he wanted to say. “I couldn’t move on. I tried. Tried to- tried to forget. But I couldn’t. I remembered _everything_.”

Harry swallowed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” said Niall. “I thought of you everywhere I went. Everything I did. It all- it all really does come back to you. And I realised—”

“Realised what?”

“—I realised that I… I might feel like I don’t fit in in L.A. like you do but that doesn’t matter. Because I fit with _you_ ,” said Niall, seriousness on his face. “And that’s the most important thing. I think.”

“It is,” agreed Harry. “That’s all that matters.”

“And even if I feel uncomfortable or out-of-place, I’ll have you t-to remind me that I- that I belong right there with you.”

“Oh, kitten,” sighed Harry. He rose up onto his knees and shuffled across the bed to Niall, duvet falling from around his body and leaving him bare. He took the guitar from the blonde, carefully setting it down at the foot of the bed, before lifting Niall into his arms and arranging him on his lap. With a bit of maneuvering, Harry eased himself back down on the mattress with his head propped up on a stack of pillows, Niall pulled flush against him, and wrapped his arms around the boy. “I’ll start right now,” Harry whispered against Niall’s temple, placing a kiss to the skin. “I love you, Niall.”

*******

Niall and Harry were sprawled out on one of the sofas in Niall’s living room, Harry’s feet in Niall’s lap and his laptop open in his own. Niall was absorbed in the current issue of _Guitarist_ magazine, a cup of tea on the side table next to him.

“Niall?” asked Harry, looking up from his laptop and over the cup of tea in his own hands. “What made you change your mind about going solo?”

Niall put his magazine down on the coffee table and reached for his cup of tea. “McCartney wrote ‘Yesterday’ on a 1964 Texan Epiphone,” he said.

“Yeah,” said Harry, confused by Niall’s non sequitur. “You’ve told me that.”

“It’s a song about lost love and that,” said Niall, shrugging and taking a sip of tea.

“Right,” agreed Harry, because Niall wasn’t wrong.

“It just seemed fitting, didn’t it?”

“Did it?” asked Harry, hoping Niall would explain what he meant.

“O’ course,” said Niall. “‘This Town’ was about lost love”—suddenly it didn’t seem to be about lost love nearly as much as it had—“you know, when I wrote it.”

Harry looked at Niall, eyebrows raised slightly as he tried to weave Niall’s words together into something that made some sort of sense.

“And then you brought me that guitar and it just seemed… right.” He shrugged again.

Harry supposed he understood what Niall meant. “This Town” hadn’t been written with the intent of releasing it as his first solo single but rather as a way to deal with his heartbreak. And maybe, when the Epiphone came into the picture, Niall began to wonder if it wasn’t a sign of some sort—an encouragement from Harry, from the universe, from some greater power—that he should write an entire album.

“Are you telling me you signed a solo deal because I bought you a guitar?” asked Harry, a little incredulous.

“Yeah,” said Niall, as if it wasn't that surprising. “It inspired me,” he said, shrugging yet again.

“You silly boy,” said Harry, looking at him fondly. “You’re cute.”

Niall blushed and gave Harry a bashful smile.

 

**Book 4**

“I’m so proud of you, pet,” Niall told Harry, reaching over to take his hand.

“Ni,” said Harry, ducking his blushing face away from Niall’s gaze, sounding a little embarrassed at Niall’s praise.

“I’m serious, Haz. This is such a big accomplishment and you worked so hard,” Niall said. “You even cut your hair.” Niall’s lips quirked into a crooked smile and Harry looked up, matching grin on his own plump lips. “You should be proud of yourself.”

“I just want you to be proud of me,” murmured Harry.

Niall smiled again and said, “Pet, I’ve got something for you. Just a little- a little ‘congratulations you’re a movie star now’ gift.”

“Love, you don’t need to give me a gift,” Harry told him.

“I know. But I wanted to,” said Niall softly, handing Harry a small box with a thin gold ribbon tied around it. “Just… open it.”

Harry pulled off the ribbon and opened the box gently, as if whatever it contained was the most precious thing ever.

“Ni,” breathed Harry as he removed the ring from the box. “It’s beautiful.” Holding the thick platinum band between his thumb and index finger, he looked at the inside, reading the delicate inscription— _don’t forget where you belong_.

He looked up at Niall, who he was surprised to see was blushing, and slid the ring onto his right ring finger. “I couldn’t ever forget,” he said, quiet and serious.

*******

“Are you excited, pet?” Niall asked Harry as they sat in the backseat of the limousine, headed to the Dunkirk premiere in London. Harry nodded slowly. “Nervous?” asked Niall gently.

The night before, Harry had been very nervous, anxious for the upcoming day’s events, and had been unable to fall asleep. He’d turned to Niall, a pained look on his face, and had asked Niall to help him relax. Niall had eased him into a calm, kissing him and whispering _I love you_ , while he led him through tender lovemaking.

Harry looked up at Niall and gave a small smile. He took one of Niall’s hands in his own and said sincerely, “Not with you here.”

Niall smiled back widely and reached out, placing a hand on the side of Harry’s face and stroking his cheekbone with his thumb. “You look so handsome, Harry,” said Niall, voice laced with love and adoration.

“Thank you, love,” said Harry. “It helps that I’ve got the prettiest boy in the whole world on my arm.” Niall blushed prettily and Harry held out a small box tied with a gold ribbon. The boy took it from Harry wordlessly. “Open it,” prompted Harry with a tiny nod, green eyes sparkling.

Niall untied the ribbon and opened the box, finding a ring identical to the one he’d given Harry, inside engraved with the words _if you ever feel alone, don’t_.

“Harry,” Niall began but was cut off when Harry’s lips pressed firmly against his in a sweet kiss.

*******

Harry and Niall stepped out of the car, anxiously straightening their suits.

Tonight was obviously a big night—the premiere of _Dunkirk_ , of Harry’s acting career—but it was also an important night for the couple because Niall wasn’t just Harry’s plus-one; tonight, he was Harry’s Date, Harry’s Boyfriend, with matching rings and perfectly coordinated suits.

And, of course, Harry’s suit—and by association, Niall’s—was highly anticipated by the press and fans alike.

Sure enough, one of the first questions they were asked when they stepped onto the red carpet was “Who are you wearing tonight, Harry?”

Harry looked down at his suit, a turquoise two-button jacket and flared pants covered with an Oriental screen print featuring birds sitting in the branches of a cherry tree, worn over a coral button-down shirt with a simple black neck bow and black boots, and said simply, “Gucci.”

Niall looked at Harry again, his now chin-length curls pushed behind his ears and platinum band on his right hand, and couldn’t help but think to himself just how handsome Harry looked.

“And how about you, Niall?” asked the reporter. “Who are you wearing?”

Niall startled slightly, surprised to be asked about his suit, and stuttered slightly on his answer. “Um, Paul- Paul Smith.”

“You two look very coordinated,” she commented.

It was true. Niall’s well-fitted light grey suit was worn with a white and turquoise-striped shirt and a coral tie and coordinated very nicely with Harry’s ensemble, Harry’s favourite glasses perched on his nose and matching ring on his right hand.

“Most couples do at this sort of thing, I think, don’t they?” asked Harry nonchalantly as he reached out and placed a big hand on Niall’s small hip, pulling him into his side.

Niall’s head slowly turned toward Harry, eyes widening in shock.

Harry smiled.

They continued around the red carpet, stopping occasionally to talk to reporters and Harry’s fellow cast members. Harry wrapped an arm around Niall’s waist every time the couple was asked for a photo, holding his hand as they weaved through the crowd.

Cameras clicked constantly as Harry whispered in Niall’s ear, telling terrible jokes and silly stories about various cast and crew members and talking about past memories of red carpets. They captured photos of Harry, lips pressed to the shell of Niall’s ear and nose in his hair, and they captured Niall, head thrown back in a boisterous laugh or hand covering his mouth as he giggled quietly.

They were wrapped up in each other, lost in their own world, separate from everyone around them.

*******

Everyone was eventually escorted into the theater, Harry holding Niall’s hand.

Harry turned to Niall once they were seated, his normal confidence replaced with what Niall knew from experience to be self-consciousness and anxiety.

“What if I’m terrible, Ni?” he whispered nervously.

Niall gave Harry’s hand a firm squeeze and said quietly, “Haz, you are amazing. Don’t worry, pet.”

*******

The movie ended and Harry and Niall were once again outside the theater. Someone had pulled Harry away to do a quick interview with Tom Hardy and Niall was approached by an interviewer who asked him what he’d thought of the movie.

“Harry was absolutely brilliant, of course. He’s my boyfriend, couldn’t be prouder,” Niall gushed. “And this whole thing was such an amazing experience for him. An awesome opportunity.”

“Aw! Thanks, love,” said Harry, walking over to Niall and the interviewer and smiling his dimpled grin at the blonde.

Niall and Harry were both asked for one last picture. Harry was the image of effortless cool, hand in the pocket of his trousers, as he reached out with his other arm and pulled Niall to him, bringing his boy flush against his side.

Arm around Niall’s waist, Harry looked at him with bright eyes and was met with the softest, prettiest smile Harry had ever seen. Unable to resist, Harry dipped his head down and caught Niall’s lips with his own, kissing him, sweet and chaste.

* * *

 

Niall wasn’t sure why TMZ had mentioned him in their most recent Tweet. He’d always suspected that they were a bit malicious—he’d seen how they treated so many of his fellow celebrities, including Louis—but now he felt certain of it.

Why else would they mention him in a Tweet that consisted solely of a link to pictures of Harry and Kendall Jenner sitting at a secluded table at a restaurant in L.A. and others of them leaving the restaurant together, captioned with the headline “Old Flames Harry Styles and Kendall Jenner Seen Leaving Craig’s Restaurant Together After a Romantic Dinner.”

It wasn’t a secret that Harry and Niall were boyfriends. Niall and Harry’s understated coming out at the _Dunkirk_ premiere a few months earlier had been grounds for every entertainment news outlet to have a field day. It seemed that every interview and bit of promo Niall had done for his solo album and solo tour since the premiere had included at least one question about his relationship with Harry.

So Niall was left to assume that TMZ had done this to create drama.

It wasn’t that Niall was jealous of Kendall; he’d _never_ really been jealous of Kendall. It was really more that she made him feel _inadequate_ , served as a reminder of his doubt and insecurities, his beliefs that he didn’t really fit into Harry’s life.

And though Niall had overcome those insecurities, had realised that they were unfounded and untrue, those pictures and _that headline_ were reminding him a bit too much of the New Year’s yacht situation. It was a bit too much like déjà vu.

Especially since Harry hadn’t mentioned that he was going to see Kendall while he was in L.A.

Niall didn’t expect Harry to give him a complete itinerary of his trips but, out of respect for his boyfriend and understanding of Niall’s past concerns, Harry told him when he was planning to spend time with Kendall, something that had only happened once before in the year since Harry and Niall had got back together.

And Niall trusted Harry, he truly did. He’d really only been distrustful for a few months after the yacht incident and he’d realised that his mistrust was really only due to his own insecurities and incorrect assumptions.

But Harry was in L.A. with Kendall and Niall was alone in London, spending his ten day-long break between the European and North American legs of his tour relaxing and sleeping in his own bed.

Niall tried not to think about the pictures, tried to ignore them and the hurt that sat like a heavy knot in his chest and burnt his throat.

*******

It was around four o’clock when Niall’s phone rang. He searched around until he found it under the cookbook laying open on the kitchen counter and was unsurprised to see that it was Harry calling.

He ignored the call, turning back to the vegetables on his cutting board. A minute later, he heard the alert notifying him that Harry had left a voicemail and debated with himself whether he should listen to it or not.

Niall dumped the onions into the pot on the stove and gave them a stir, coating them in the butter and vegetable oil, before searching out his phone again and sliding across the voicemail notification to listen to Harry’s message.

“Hi, kitten,” came Harry’s slow drawl through the phone. “I just woke up and I wanted to call and say good morning. Well, afternoon for you now, isn’t it?” said Harry, groggy with sleep still. Niall wondered if Harry was still laying in bed. “I’ve got to go make some coffee”—he yawned—“but I’ll try you again in a bit, love. Miss you!”

Niall put the phone back down and stirred his onions.

*******

It was close to six o’clock when Niall’s phone rang again. It was Harry and he chose to ignore it again. He wasn’t angry with Harry but he just didn’t feel like talking because Harry would be able to tell that he was upset and would ask what was wrong and he didn’t want to admit that he was doubting that he really belonged in Harry’s life. He knew it was silly but he couldn’t help it.

Because although he’d told himself repeatedly not to look through to the whole article and scroll through the pictures, Niall had done exactly that, flicking through the short slideshow of pictures documenting Harry and Kendall’s “relationship” over the last four years. It had ended with five pictures from the previous night—two of Harry and Kendall at a secluded table in a darkened corner of the restaurant and three of the pair leaving the restaurant, Harry’s hand on Kendall’s back—and Niall was struck again by how _nice_ they looked together, like a proper Hollywood couple, with their long legs and model looks and Gucci wardrobes.

Niall watched a bit of Joe Rogan’s latest podcast, an episode with Brendan Schaub and Eddie Bravo where they talked about Conor McGregor’s upcoming fight, avoiding Harry’s voicemail for as long as he could stand.

After about forty minutes, he paused the video and picked up his phone, listening to Harry’s message.

“Hi, love,” said Harry, sounding a little nervous. “I’m, um, I’m about to go into my audition and I’m, uh, I’m a _little_ nervous and I wanted to talk to you. Just, like, hear your voice. But, um, I’ll talk to you later, let you know how it- how it goes. Wish me luck!”

Niall felt awful. Clouded by his own self-pity, he’d forgot that today was Harry’s audition for a second Nolan film.

He knew it was too little, too late and that Harry wouldn’t even get it until he left the audition but Niall typed out a text—“Good luck pet xoxo”—and sent it to Harry.

*******

When Harry called the third time, this time at around ten o’clock, Niall decided to answer.

“Hi, Harry,” said Niall.

“Oh, Niall! Love, you answered!” said Harry happily and Niall noticed that he sounded much less nervous than he had in his earlier message. “I was starting to think you were ignoring me.” Harry gave a small chuckle and Niall cringed.

“How’d the audition go?” he asked.

“It went really well, actually. I think I- I think I may get the part.”

“That’s great, Haz,” said Niall, aware that he didn’t sound as enthusiastic as he would on any other day. “I never- I never doubted it.”

“I know you didn’t,” said Harry. “How was your day? Good?”

“Mmm,” hummed Niall noncommittally. “How’s Kendall?”

“She’s fine. Bit of surprise running into her at Craig’s last night,” Harry told him simply.

“Mmm,” hummed Niall again.

“Wait, I didn’t talk to you this morning,” said Harry, sounding a little confused, as though he’d just realised that he hadn’t told Niall he’d bumped into Kendall the night before. “How’d you know that?”

“You might want to check TMZ,” suggested Niall quietly, sadly.

“ _Fuck_ ,” hissed Harry. “What absolute bullshit did those wankers write?” Niall heard Harry shuffle around, probably getting his laptop to find the article. “Niall, you’ve got to know that whatever they said is just…” he trailed off. “ _Fuck_ ,” he growled again.

“Whatever, Harry. I’m- I think I’m just gonna go to bed,” said Niall.

“No, wait. Niall!” said Harry. “I think we should talk about this. I want to talk about this.”

“I... don’t, though,” said Niall hesitantly.

“Niall—”

“I’ll talk to you later, Harry,” Niall said, cutting off Harry’s pleading. “Good night, Haz.”

And before Harry could argue anymore, Niall hung up.

*******

When Niall woke up the next morning, he had twenty-four texts from Harry—trying to explain that he had bumped into Kendall unexpectedly when he’d gone for dinner with Jeff and Glenne and that the pictures in the restaurant must have been taken in the ten minutes they were alone after Jeff and Glenne left and before they walked out together, both to their separate cars—and all begging him to call him as soon as he woke up.

Niall also had a text from Louis—“Niall call your fucking boyfriend. He’s come over to mine and he’s fucking crying on the sofa and Danielle can’t get him to fucking calm down.”

There was a text from Liam, similar to Louis’ but slightly different in tone—“Niall. Please call Harry. He’s gone to Louis’ and he’s very verrry upset. I’ve got like 100 texts from him and about 15 from Louis. Please. Love ya bro.”

The final messages were from Nick, no doubt well-intentioned but nevertheless irritating to Niall, attempting to explain Harry’s surprise dinner with Kendall using the story he’d obviously been told by Harry.

Just as Niall was about to get up and head to the kitchen to make some coffee, or maybe pour himself a few shots, his phone rang. He didn’t _really_ need to look at the screen to know that it was Harry.

“Jesus Christ, Harry,” muttered Niall to himself, leaving the phone on the bed and walking from the room. “Go to sleep, ya prat.”

*******

Niall finally answered Harry’s fourth phone call at around one o’clock.

“Haz,” he said simply, by way of a greeting.

“Niall!” exclaimed Harry, relief obvious in his voice. “Niall, I need to explain. _Please_. Nothing—”

“Harry,” said Niall, interrupting Harry, “I get what happened. And I’m not upset with you. It’s just… You know how I feel about L.A. and Kendall and- and you two just _look good_ together. A proper Hollywood couple. Not like me, just the cute little Irish kid from Mullingar.”

“Niall! Stop!” shouted Harry, sounding a little frantic. “ _We_ look perfect together, you and me. How come you can’t see that? You’re so fucking handsome! _Fuck_!” Harry exhaled heavily, frustrated. “It doesn’t even matter how we _look_ together, though. I love you and you love me and that’s the _only thing_ that matters!”

“Harry, _please_. Just- please just leave me alone for a few days,” whispered Niall, silently praying that Harry would understand. “Please.”

The line was silent for a few seconds and then Harry said quietly, “Okay, Niall.”

“Thank you, Harry,” whispered Niall. “Get some sleep, pet.”

“Y-yeah. I love you, Niall.”

Niall sighed. “I love you too, Harry.”

*******

Niall was beyond surprised that Harry didn’t call or send him any texts over the next two days.

Niall did, however, receive a call from Louis on the second day. Niall almost ignored the call, half expecting it to be Harry calling from Louis’ phone as a ploy to get him to answer, but was glad to find that it was actually Louis.

“Niall, have you quite finished being a little shit so I can send Harry home to you?” Louis asked when Niall answered the call.

“I’m not being a little shit, Lou,” said Niall. He supposed he would be a little offended if he didn’t know Louis so well. “It’s complicated.”

“No, it’s really not,” said Louis, sounding a bit irritated. “You don’t think you fit in in L.A. and then you saw pictures of Harry and Kendall on fucking TMZ, of all places, and you got all worked up because you think they look like a ‘proper Hollywood couple’ and that they _belong_ together, which is just stupid, and you told Harry to leave you alone for a few days and he’s been _here_ for the last two days, crying into me sofa and drinking all me tea.”

“Well… yeah,” agreed Niall because that pretty much summed it up. “But it isn’t _stupid_ , Louis.”

“Yes, Niall, it really is,” said Louis, impatience dripping from his voice. “You must be as daft as you are Irish if you can’t see that Harry’s been in love with you since fucking Bootcamp.”

Niall was silent, not sure what to say.

“He doesn’t give a rat’s arse about Kendall, Niall,” said Louis, voice much kinder and gentler now. “It’s _always_ been you. He loves you so much, Niall.”

There was silence again and then Niall whispered, “Louis?”

“Yeah, Nialler?”

“Can you- can you please tell Harry to come home?” asked Niall.

“Yeah, lad. I can.”

* * *

 

It was three o’clock in the morning when Niall heard the door open. He’d been waiting for Harry to arrive home since Harry had sent him a simple text message twelve hours earlier telling him he was about to board his flight back to London.

He muted the television and took a pull from his beer bottle. He heard Harry’s boots as he walked through the house, making his way toward the living room. The footsteps died at the entryway. Niall took another long pull of his beer and, inhaling and exhaling deeply, turned to look at Harry over the back of the sofa.

“N-N-Niall,” choked Harry and Niall felt his heart breaking in his chest. Harry looked absolutely _broken_ , hair disheveled and unkempt, face blotchy, green eyes dull and filled with pain. Niall supposed Louis hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said that Harry had cried into his sofa for the past two days.

“Harry,” sighed Niall, staring at the boy. “Oh, pet.”

“N-Niall. I’m sorry. _I’m sorry_ ,” cried Harry, pleading with Niall to forgive him for a crime he hadn’t committed.

“Harry,” said Niall, fixing Harry with a gentle gaze, “there’s nothing to be sorry for, pet.”

“Niall!” cried Harry again, as though he’d not heard Niall. “Niall! I’m so sorry. Please, Niall. Please don’t be mad—”

“Harry!” exclaimed Niall, raising his voice to try to catch Harry’s attention. He stood from the couch and took a few steps toward Harry, feeling absolutely broken-hearted when Harry took a step away from him. “Harry,” he said, softening his tone a bit, “calm down, love.”

“Niall, Niall. _Please_!” pleaded Harry, trembling, tears in his pale green eyes. His hands went to his head, fingers weaving into his hair and digging into his scalp.

“Harry,” said Niall again, stepping toward Harry and grasping his waist to stop the brunette from taking another step back. “Harry!” He looked at Harry and was terrified to see that his eyes were blank, unfocused on _everything_ , as though he was looking right through Niall.

Feeling a little panicked, Niall did the only thing he could think to do—he raised his left hand and slapped Harry’s cheek, feeling a slight sting on his palm and fingers. Niall’s eyes widened, shocked by his own actions.

"Niall?” whispered Harry, hushed, sounding almost as surprised as Niall felt.

“Oh, pet,” cooed Niall, feeling a little less nervous because Harry looked a little less distant and _lost_. “Harry, love,” Niall murmured, hands moving to where Harry’s were still twisted in his long curls and easing them down to their chests. He kissed the knuckles of one shaking hand and then the other, saying quietly, “Calm down, love.”

“Niall! You need to know”—he shuddered out a breath, pulling his hands out of Niall’s, eyes filling with tears and a frantic energy—“you need to know that I _love_ you and- and- and you _belong with me_.”

“Harry, I know that. All of that,” said Niall, feeling a little nervous again. He reached this time for Harry’s face, cupping it gently in his hands, thumbs smoothing over Harry’s cheekbones. “Please, pet, I need you to calm down. You’re scaring me.”

“N-Niall, I- I can’t calm down.”

And suddenly Niall knew what to do to get Harry to calm down, how to get him to listen to him.

“Harry,” said Niall, removing his hands from Harry’s face and taking a small step back from the boy, “kiss me.” Harry blinked, tears finally sliding down his cheeks. “Kiss me, pet,” he said again, a bit more firmly.

Harry exhaled, a shaky, steadying breath, and took a step toward Niall. With still-trembling hands and long-awaited _permission_ , Harry laid one hand along the side of Niall’s face and slid the other up the back of Niall’s neck, fingers weaving into the hair at the nape. Slowly, cautiously, he dipped his head down and placed the gentlest, most _painful_ kiss to Niall’s lips. It was sweet and desperate, laced with heartbreak and desire and longing and intense love.

He pulled back an inch and traced his thumb over Niall’s lips before leaning forward again and kissing the boy, deep and purposeful and passionate this time.

After a few minutes, Niall broke the kiss, dragging his lips from Harry’s lips to his ear. “Take me to our bed,” he whispered, the deeper meaning— _I trust you_ —clear in his command.

“Yes, Niall,” sighed Harry, eyes closed.

With fingers intertwined, Harry led Niall to their bedroom. At Niall’s instruction, Harry undressed him—hands skimming along the curves and planes of Niall’s body, the feel of Niall’s skin under his own soothing—and then rushed to take his own clothes off.

“Lay me down, love,” Niall panted against Harry’s curls when the lad dropped his head again, pressing kisses and nips to the soft flesh of Niall’s right collarbone and neck.

Harry nodded into Niall’s neck before moving his head up to Niall’s and placing a kiss on his mouth. Then, with a strength that was easy to forget he possessed, Harry wrapped his tattooed arms around Niall, one under the boy’s bum and the other around his back, and lifted him up. Niall’s legs moved around Harry’s waist, pulling himself impossibly closer to Harry’s long body.

Harry took a few steps, walking toward the bed, and laid Niall down on the mattress. He crawled onto the bed and hovered over the smaller boy. With soft doe eyes, he looked at Niall’s face and whispered, “ _Please_ , Niall.”

Niall blinked up at him, a gentle smile on his lips. “Make love to me, Harry.”

“Yes, Niall.”

“Get yourself ready, yeah, pet?”

“Yes, Niall,” said Harry, ducking his head down to hide his blush. He pushed himself back, sitting up on his knees, and wrapped a hand around his length. With a firm grip, Harry began to jerk himself off, breathing speeding up as his cock thickened.

“Oh, baby,” whimpered Niall, one of his hands on his own cock. “ _Fuck_ , you’re so beautiful. _So_ _beautiful_.”

“I love you, Niall,” sighed Harry, eyes fluttering open and closed.

“I know, pet. I love you too,” said Niall. “Baby, I need- I need you to open me up. Show me what- what a good boy you are.”

“I am… a good boy, Niall,” said Harry, looking at Niall hopefully, earnestly, as though wanting to prove that he was.

“I know, love.”

Harry shuffled around, searching the bedside table for a bottle of lube. Returning to Niall, he poured a bit of the liquid onto his fingers and settled between Niall’s spread legs, hand moving down to Niall’s arse as his torso lowered to settle along the boy’s smaller body, firm cock resting in the vee of Niall’s pelvis.

“Kiss me,” Niall told Harry, a gentle command and Harry pressed his lips to Niall’s in a tender kiss, warm and sticky-sweet. Niall moved a hand to Harry’s where it lay by his arse and squeezed his wrist lightly, reminding him of his previous instructions. Harry’s hand moved up between Niall’s arse cheeks, a long finger pressing to his rim before entering him slowly, easily. Harry pumped it in and out, slow and steady, while continuing to kiss Niall. He added a second, delighting in Niall’s moans, and scissored the two fingers, stretching Niall to prepare him.

Niall whimpered into Harry’s mouth, muttering, “Haz, oh, pet. I’m ready. _Please_. Fill me up, yeah?”

Harry nodded against Niall’s forehead, placing one more peck to Niall’s lips before removing his fingers from Niall’s hole and raising up above his boy again. He took his cock in his hand and dragged it between Niall’s arse cheeks, pushing against Niall’s rim and easing into him, inch by inch, until he settled completely.

Harry began to move, in and out, rocking his hips against Niall’s, and Niall gave a whispy moan, breathing deeply. “Oh, oh. Baby. Harry,” whined Niall. “Oh my God, I love you so much. You’re- you’re the love of my life, pet.”

“Niall, Niall,” babbled Harry, pressing his forehead to Niall’s as he fucked into him, slow and hard. “Niall, you belong with me. You, ahh, you _always_ belong with me.”

“I know, baby, I know,” said Niall, nodding against Harry’s forehead. “We belong together, you and me. Always.” He opened his eyes and met Harry’s, brilliant green and sparkling with tears. They dripped down his lashes and onto his cheeks and Niall knew how to ease Harry, to get him _quiet_.

“Love, flip us over, yeah.” Harry nodded, blinking away a few tears, and drew Niall into his arms. He rolled onto his back, pulling Niall on top of himself. Niall broke out of Harry’s arms and sat up, planting his feet into the mattress on either side of Harry’s hips, and began to ride him. Harry’s hands settled on Niall’s skinny thighs, tears flowing from his eyes as he cried silently.

“Shhh, love,” soothed Niall. “Shh. Everything’s all right. I love you and you love me and that’s the _only thing_ that matters!” Niall reached down and wiped tears from Harry’s cheeks, leaning forward to kiss his eyelids and nose and lips and cheeks. “I love you.”

“I love you, Niall,” choked Harry, tears still streaming from his face. “I want you to see it. _Please_ see it, Niall.”

“Oh, pet,” sighed Niall, continuing to press tiny kisses to Harry’s face, “I _do_ see. I do. I know you love me.” He rose up and dropped back down onto Harry’s cock, over and over, feeling whole and safe and trusting. “Feel me, love. Close your eyes.”

Harry’s eyes closed, all of his energy focused on Niall—on the feel of Niall’s hole tight around his cock, the drag of his length along the walls of Niall’s hot body, the brush of Niall’s feathery daydream kisses on his warm skin, the _love_ that radiated like the sun and enveloped them—and was drowned in the realisation that Niall _trusted him_. He felt warm, _glowing_ , light, and dreamy. And suddenly it was too much and not enough at the same time, perfect.

“Niall,” he moaned, reedy and needing. “Please tell me—”

“Flip us back over, love,” said Niall, quiet and commanding and gentle. “Lay me on my back again.” Harry carefully repositioned them, with Niall on his back and Harry between his legs, raised above him. “Good boy,” praised Niall, lifting a hand and placing it on Harry’s cheek. “Such a good boy for me, pet.”

Harry looked at Niall, eyes cloudy and dazed, and Niall decided not to bring him back—to let him float, dreamy and soft and quiet, surrounded by sunshine—and let him drift back to Niall when he was ready.

“You can cum, pet. _Oh_ ,” groaned Niall, his cock grinding perfectly against Harry’s stomach where it was trapped between their bodies. “Fill me up.”

“Niall,” whimpered Harry, shuddering as his orgasm overtook him, filling Niall. Grinding up against Harry’s stomach a few more times, Niall came, spilling hot and sticky on Harry’s skin. “I love you, Niall,” sighed Harry drunkenly, eyes closed.

“I love you too, pet,” whispered Niall, placing his hands on Harry’s hips and gently easing them up, pulling Harry’s sensitive cock out of his slippery hole. “So much.” Niall sat up, switching places with Harry as he pushed the boy onto his back and moved to hover above him. He brushed a clump of Harry’s hair, damp with sweat, from his face, leaning down to drop light kisses to Harry’s closed eyelids, the tip of his nose, his forehead.

“Good night, love,” he said, voice low and soothing. He reached down and brought the duvet up over their nude bodies, wrapping Harry in the downy blanket and laying down beside him.

*******

Harry woke up the next morning, content and warm, and snuggled back into Niall’s arms.

“G’morning, love,” said Niall, words thick with sleep, his lips pressed to the shell of Harry’s ear. “How are you feeling?”

Harry hummed. “Soft,” he said slowly. “Like sunshine and honey.”

“Mmm,” sighed Niall, smiling against the ticklish skin behind Harry’s ear. “That’s good then.”

“Mmhm,” agreed Harry sleepily.

They lay in silence for a few minutes, feeling each other’s breath and heartbeats, before Harry asked, shy and almost a little embarrassed, “Can you- will you… clean me up?”

“Of course, pet,” said Niall. He moved his arms from around Harry’s waist and slid out of the blankets, sitting up and standing from the bed. He disappeared for a few minutes, returning with a warm, damp flannel. He lifted the duvet from Harry and wiped Harry’s soft length and tummy, cleaning the dried cum off of the boy.

Finished, he threw the cloth into the laundry basket and pulled the duvet back over Harry, tucking him in. “I’m gonna go make us tea, love. You stay here, yeah, all nice and cozy.”

“Yes, Niall,” said Harry, eyes closing sleepily and a small smile drifting onto his lips.

“Good boy,” said Niall, bending to kiss Harry before leaving the room.

Harry drifted back to that peaceful place just between being awake and asleep, where there are no sharp angles or harsh lights, waiting for Niall to come back with a hot cup of tea.

Niall was back soon, two cups of tea in his hands. He placed them on the nightstand and climbed back onto the bed, slipping back under the blankets with Harry. He bent down, kissing Harry again, and said quietly, “I’ve got tea, pet!” He leant back against the headboard.

“Mmm,” sighed Harry. He yawned, sitting up and pushing his sleep-mussed hair from his eyes. Niall handed Harry a cup and then took his own.

Both boys sipped at their tea, quiet and calm.

“I’m so sorry for- for everything I’ve done to you,” said Niall finally. “I’m sorry for what I’ve- what I’ve put you through—”

“No, Niall,” said Harry, shaking his head and attempting to assuage Niall's guilt.

“No, Harry,” said Niall firmly. “It’s not fair, what I’ve done. I hurt you because of my- my self-doubt and insecurities. Christ, you looked so _broken_ when you walked in that door last night.” Harry chose not to mention that he’d _felt_ broken, shattered beyond repair. “I’m sorry, Harry. I love you so much and I hope you know that.”

“Oh, kitten,” breathed Harry, “I know that you love me. I’ve been- I’ve been telling you we belong together for years.”

“I know.” Niall nodded. “And I know you’re _right_. We do belong together.”

“We do,” agreed Harry, finishing his tea and putting the empty cup on his nightstand. They sat in silence while Niall finished his tea, placing his own cup on the nightstand. “Please don’t doubt me again,” said Harry quietly, a crooked smile on his face. He took Niall’s right hand in his own, playing with Niall’s fingers. “And don’t doubt yourself either.”

Niall chuckled and smiled back. “Okay, Harry.”

Harry sat forward and kissed Niall, slow and deep, licking at Niall’s lips and pressing his tongue to Niall’s at a lazy morning pace.

“Is it cheating,” asked Harry, twisting and tugging at the ring on Niall’s right ring finger, “if I just do this?” He pulled the ring off Niall’s finger completely and looked at the boy sitting next to him on the bed. “Niall James Horan, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” said Niall, nodding.

“Yes?” asked Harry, a little breathless. His eyes widened. “Yes… to which question?”

Niall smiled his sunshine smile and said sweetly, “Both. It _is_ cheating but I don’t care. Yes, Harry Edward Styles, I will marry you.”

Harry inhaled sharply. “Real- really?”

“Yes, really. I can’t think of anything I want more,” he said, simple and honest. “Now are ya gonna put that ring on my finger or not?”

Harry choked out a shocked laugh, smile so wide and dimples so deep and green eyes sparkling with tears, and slipped the ring— _if you ever feel alone, don’t_ —onto Niall’s left ring finger.

“Better?” asked Harry, tilting his head down to kiss Niall softly.

“Yes,” whispered Niall against Harry’s lips, giggling into the kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> this story is set in the same timeline as my [family!narry drabbles](http://littlemissmeggie.tumblr.com/family!narry), which pick up about two years after the end of this.
> 
> you can find me on [tumblr](http://littlemissmeggie.tumblr.com). i'm quite friendly!


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